#staircase to interrogate her. the only time he ever even kisses her on the cheek to my memory is in front of Jeff

[widowshill]

102.

[httpswwwtbhkcom]

I Finally Get to See You Again

[Oneshot/Imagine]

Pairing: Norman x Reader

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist]

Summary: After Norman was shipped, you were devastated. You had grown a liking to the said boy. You and the others were having a hard time accepting Norman ‘died’. While in the naked eye, Isabella thought all of you weren’t planning to escape. The night before Ray’s shipment, half of your siblings escaped, leaving the younger ones with Isabella. It was difficult finding William Minerva and his shelter. Along the way of your journey, you found new friends that you could call family and the person you thought you lost.

Warning: Manga spoilers, some wrong grammars, some changes, mentions of death, Angst, happy ending,

Genre: Angst, Fluff, timeskip Norman, other timeskip characters, younger Norman and other characters,

Keys:

Y/n- your name,

A/n: If your asking, I’m still in hiatus. This had just popped into my mind when I was reading the manga.

This was longer than expected...

Reader: Neutral

Colored by: ??? 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You and Norman had a mutual liking to each other. It was obvious except for the both of you. The whole family kept teasing both of you when your both in your separate ways. You don’t have the smarts of the trio but your grades is as almost as high as them. 

You always play with your siblings when your allowed to go outside. You were a great hider and seeker, your determination never goes unnoticed by the white haired boy.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

After Conny left the house, she left her stuffed animal. You, Emma, and Norman decided that you three would give this to her before she left. 

You three tried on finding Conny at the gates of the orphanage. You three first noticed a truck. Emma called for her, telling her that she had forgotten her Little bunny. 

You were curious on what’s inside the truck which was covered with a curtain. Curious, you moved it and stumbled back in horror. Norman and Emma immediately rushed to you and also saw Conny with a flower sticking out her chest. 

You were going to cry until you three had heard footsteps. In a flash, you three hid under the truck and decided to eavesdrop. You decided on trying to see who they are and what they look like. You almost screamed once more when you saw them. Luckily, Norman covered your mouth before you could scream.

You, Emma, and Norman escaped in time before you three got caught. Once you three were in a safe distance. You were on your knees and cried. Emma did the same and hugged you. Norman looked horrified and sad as well at the image of your dear sister now dead. Discovering her corpse is what leads to the three of you to discover the orphanage's true nature.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

[Timeskip to Norman’s shipment]

You, Ray and Emma had tried to convince Norman to escape or at least to pretend he escaped. But he didn’t listen and accepted his fate. You and Emma were with the others while Ray was at the staircase. You tried to stop him from leaving but Norman only pushed you away and scolded you. It was noticeable that he was also hurt on leaving his family he had grown up with. It was more painful to him to leave his first crush, you were what made him determined on escaping Grace Field. 

You sobbed as Norman cupped you cheeks, making you look at him. He kissed your forehead and told you it was going to be fine. The statement only made you cry more. “It’s time to go” Isabella told him, smiling. Norman nodded and gave her a small forced smile. He looked at you one more time before letting go. “Yeah.”. He stood up, leaving you alone crying. 

You didn’t watch him leave, since it only pains you more. 

After they have left, your siblings tried to comfort you. “Norman.... Norman..” You kept repeating his name. You were broken. You and Norman were so close, feeling someone close leave your life pains you. 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

A few days had passed you stopped playing with the other children. They told you that he will be fine and that he would give us letters and tell us about the outside world. But you knew the truth, their words won’t heal you as much as before, but their attempts made you slightly smile and nod. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Isabella smiled as she looked you and Emma who was surrounded by other kids. She had thought she have finally stopped you all from escaping. 

The thought of Ray’s shipment soon after Norman’s made you panic. Emma has been trying her best to escape for the family to escape with her. She wasn’t entirely hiding it to you. You didn’t know her plan, but you hoped that it works.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You and the others (Except for the younger siblings) were now running through the huge forest. Trying not to run into demons. “Luckily we have that guide with us. It’s such a huge help.” You muttered. Emma nodded, smiling. After being underground and leaving safely, you were relieved. 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

[Skipping to when they found the B06-32 Shelter made by William Minerva since I forgot what happened before that]

“We’re here! B06-32.” Emma exclaimed, looking at the information from the pen. “But there’s nothing here...” Someone murmured. “What can we do? This is really... B06-32.” Emma commented. 

“What does it mean?” “There’s nothing here!” “No sigh of any kind... Nothing at all...” All the hope gathered from them disappeared. ‘As smart as William Minerva. He wouldn’t show the shelter from the naked eye.. So that means it’s probably hiding here somewhere..’ You thought. “So, can you see anyone in the area? Any humans?” Ray asked. “I think there’s no one...” Nat answered. 

“So Minerva isn’t here after all?!” “But why?!” They cried. You tried to reassure them that it’s somewhere in B06-32 hiding somewhere. ‘We came all the way here... For nothing? What to do...’ The others who didn’t hear you wondered.

“LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIREEE!!!” The younger siblings exclaimed, making everyone flinch at the sudden loudness. “He said he would be here!!” “He told us to come visit!!” “AND WE CAME AAALL THE WAY!!” They shouted. You didn’t stop them, instead, waiting for them to tire out. Once they stopped, “Feel better now?” Ray asked, crossing his arms. “Yeah!” They exclaimed, panting.

“Then calm down and listen.” Ray said, gathering the attention of the others. “If Minerva is the one going back and forth between the worlds... Then he won’t always be on the demons’ side.” Ray added. 

“And even if the demons usually avoid these deserted areas... Imagine if humans just stood around like sitting ducks, or if they left obvious signs... They wouldn’t last long, right?” You continued. Ray nodded at your explanation. “Emma, the pen.” Emma handed Ray the pen. “Yesterday, I found out about the next part. The contents of the pen go on after what we had seen.” 

“And what did the next part show?” Gilda questioned. “Nothing at all.” Ray answered. “To be more precise, nothing I could see.” You sighed in relief at the second statement. You almost thought you and your family will be stuck here forever.

“What do you mean?” Emma asked. “I couldn’t access the rest of the data. I’m sure I put in the right answer, but even then... No matter how many times I tried, I could only see as far as Minerva’s message from before. Norman too, couldn’t access the data in that house. I think that’s because... The pen will only show the next part once you bring it to a certain location.” 

“You mean...” “Exactly, here in B06-32.” 

Once you all cracked the code. It showed a map. “It worked!!” The young ones exclaimed. “But... What’s this..?” 

“It’s a map... There’s an underground entrance! As expected.” You answered. “It’s around that area! Go look for it!” When the map showed ‘Welcome’ and ‘Unlocked’, the ground began shaking. “Ray! Look! Something’s happening!” Emma exclaimed in panic and alarm. ‘Here it is...’ You murmured to yourself. 

Ray opened the trapdoor revealing a ladder and the underground shelter. 

“It was really here after all...” “He wasn’t lying!” They exclaimed, making you smile and giggle slightly. Once your feet was on the shelter floor, you walked with the others to see rooms with numbers. ‘102,103...’ You counted the numbers placed at the door.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Once you saw the man. You immediately thought ‘His... His manners are just terrible!!’ You grimaced completely shocked. You looked at your siblings to see the same expression you have. 

“Are you Minerva?” Emma asked, in a serious tone. “Nope.” The man answered. “Too bad for you, kids. I’m not William Minerva.” He continued. “Then please call him. We came all the way here in order to meet Minerva.” Ray told him. “He ain’t here. What a shame, huh? No Minerva’s around here at all.” 

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ You wondered, in a shocked face. ‘So Minerva was really a dirty liar...!?’ “Calm down.” Ray reassured. “Clearly you know of Minerva, too. We need more information. Where is he right now?” Ray asked sternly. “No idea, Man!” 

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Ray interrogated. “Who am I?! I’m your senior.” He showed a pen same as the one Emma, you, Norman and Ray found. “It’s the same pen...” Alicia muttered. “Senior?” 

“Yup. Well, not from Grace Field, at any rate.” He showed his mark which was on his abdomen. “I come from a plantation called Glory Bell. I escaped it 13 years ago... With my colleagues. And thanks to this pen.”

“Same as us...” “He’s like us...” They muttered in relief, and shock. “That’s right. I’m just the same as you. Ended up here while searching for Minerva.” ‘Human beings like us... Living outside the walls!!’ You wondered. “How-ever...” The word made your smile you had falter. “When I finally reached the place for real, Minerva wasn’t around. I waited for him a hella long time, ended up living here, and no trace of the man. No way around it, Man’s a dirty liar.”

“Though, I gotta say I’m grateful for this shelter, y’know?” He added. “Everything’s provided for. Hurrah for my man Minerva!!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Here you are now, standing beside Gilda. Seeing that Emma had a gun pointed to her head made you heartbroken. ‘Will she die? Please no..’ You silently pleaded as tears threatened to fall. “Hand it over. Your pen, kids. Fork it already. I’ll be keeping it so that y’all with never step in here again. I don’t wanna anyone weighing me down. Sorry, but you guys will have to leave.” 

“Well then, gimme your pen and get the hell away from my face. Otherwise, every single one of you is gonna die right here and now.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

[Timeskip to when B06-32 was exploded and Andrew pointed the gun to Alicia]

“IDIOTS! DAMN IDIOTS! I’M THE ONE WHO IS ALIVE! HEAVEN IS ON MY SIDE! AHAHHAHAHAAHAHA!” Andrew laughed maniacally. Emma shot his joints. Andrew ran to Dominic and shouted “I’LL TRAMPLE HIM TO DEATH

DIEEEE!!! YOU PIGS! YOU ARE BEINGS MEANT TO BE EATEN!” His loud tone in his voice attracted a stray demon. The demon opened it’s mouth and began eating Andrew. Andrew shouted in pain. You were scared but you exclaimed. “Now’s our chance, Run!!!” You shouted, running to the opposite direction of where the demon is and back to the previous place all of you were in.

“No way... Even Yuugo and Lucas...” “They’re dead...?” 

“It was an honorable end for them... Protecting all of us until their last breath...” Oliver mourned. The others did as well. “Uuu...” You looked at Gillian, who was in the verge of crying. “UWAHHHHH!!!!” She broke down. The others looked at her, who was also in the verge of crying. Soon after, everyone broke down. 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Ray shot an owl. “This is it.” Ray said, showing the owl. “This is... An owl?” Nigel was confused. You looked closely and said “No, look closely. That’s a camera.” You pointed to the owl’s eyes. The others gasped. “How do that guy know where this place was? How were they able to weave their way through the blind spots of the cameras at the shelter? This would be the answer to those.” Ray explained.

“This thing pointed out the position of our cameras and informed them of where the place we escaped to was at?” Pepe asked. “Most likely. I should have noticed this quicker. When I think about it, this thing had been getting closer and closer and following us...!” Ray cursed to himself for his mistake. “This place is no good either. We need to leave it behind immediately.” He added.

“Oliver.” Emma called. “Yeah.” Oliver nodded. He showed the note to the others. “Everyone.” He called out. “Lucas received one last phone call.” Relief washed over everyone. “Mister Minerva could still be alive...?” 

“No, we can’t know that for sure.” “It could also be conceivably be one of the ‘supporters’ that are still living...” “An ally...!”

“It hurts...! I’m so frustrated...! Do we really not have a life where we can just rest once...!” 

“No, we don’t. So in order to get back, that’s why we’re fighting. Before these two months are over, we’ll definitely change the world.” Emma reassured. “We can do it. We will do it!! For Yuugo and Lucas!” She exclaimed. “So to that end, we should go! As long as there’s hope, we can make it anywhere and everywhere. Let’s go with everybody! To the place that’s calling out to us!” 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

??? POV: (If you have read the manga chapter, you would know who it is. If not, I feel sorry lol.... Sorry)

“That broadcast. I hope it reached the shelter.” He said. “Yes, it had to have.” A figure told him.

“Let’s get started, James.” 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Your POV:

“7-3-5. 9-4-1. 10-10-7. 13-11-2. 21-8-4. 150-6-3.” “These numbers...” “It’s the same as before.” “Correct! It’s the code based on Minerva’s fantasy book.”

“Page 7, 3rd line, 5th word... ‘Go’. Page 9, 4th line, 1st word. ‘To’.” Emma murmured, concentrated on the code. “Oh yeah, I remember it now! We did that when we first found the shelter!!” The kid exclaimed. 

“Now we put all the words together, and...” “What’s a Jaw of the Lion?” “How do you ‘Go’ there?” “Ah! I saw that on the maps, back in the shelter! When we were looking for the temple and the golden waters!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You were surprised and happy when you saw the younger ones’ abilities for over the years. You were always with Emma and Ray that you can’t always be with them. 

“We can handle this trip, no problem! We all learned from Yuugo and Lucas!!” 

“Everyone, Stay here! We’ll be back!” You shouted when you heard a noise from a demon nearby. “Y/n! Now!!” Ray commanded. “Roger!” 

‘This feeling... It’s demons. There are demons around.’ You murmured when you ran with Ray and Emma. When the three of you were finally in the source, you looked in surprise as you saw 2 people. ‘Huh?! People?!?!’.

‘Who are they? Why are they here?’ You overthought, you were interrupted by Emma. “We need to save them!” She shouted. You took your arrow and began aiming for the demon’s eye. Once the demons’ were dead, Ray threatened “Don’t move.” While aiming at the guy. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Ray interrogated. 

Unexpectedly, one boy turned around and went to his knees and bowing his head low on the ground. “THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!” He shouted. You looked at him shocked. “I WAS SO SCARED-!! I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE DEAD BY NOW, I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE EATEN~!! THE GUNS THAT WE HAD BROUGHT WITH US, AND EVEN THE CLOTHES THAT WE HAD ON US WERE EATEN!!” He explained in a loud voice. “REALLY, THANK YOU. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!” He clinged to your arms (Since you were the closest) and thanked you. “OI, YOU IDIOT, GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF THEM!! TO DO SUCH A THING TO THE PEOPLE WHO SAVED OUR LIVES!!” The other shouted. Then something struck them. 

You looked at them sheepishly, curious. “HUMANS!?” They backed away in shock. “THAT’S WAY TOO LATE! AFTER SUCH A LONG TIME?!” Ray and Don had both the same expressions. You giggled. “WE’RE SO SORRY! WE’VE BEEN RUDE TO YOU AGAIN!” Two of them apologized once more. “Ayy...! You’re voices are too loud!” “The enemy will notice us.” Both Don and Ray scolded. “So, Who are you? What are you doing here?” Emma asked. 

“Right. My name is Jin. And this is Hayato.” Jin pointed to Hayato who has a bandana. “I can’t tell you all the details, but... We are working under a certain person to achieve a goal... And because of that...” While Jin was explaning, Hayato noticed the mark on your neck. “AAAAHHHHHHH!!!” Hayato shouted. “We told you that you need to stay quiet!!!” Don whisper-shouted. “Jin!! There people. NO WAY! They’re the Grace Field escapees!!”

“We’ve been searching for all of you. Under William Minervas’ orders!!!” They explaned. “Mister Minerva?!” You looked at them in disbelief.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Earlier, Hayato and Jin (Mostly Hayato) have been talking about William Minerva (Aka their boss). Everyone was shocked and impressed at William Minerva’s doings of saving many children.

“Your Boss, Minerva told you to search for us?” 

“Yes! Did you receive the broadcast? After that, knowing that the shelter was going to be attacked, the boss sent us to scout for you... The boss was heart broken. He conveyed to me that he want to help you out and needs your power as well.” Jin answered. “Mister Minerva...” They murmured happily. “We heard the broadcast, and right now we’re headed to that place he told us about.” Oliver commented. 

“Then all is well! By all means, let us guide you there. To our hideaway!! Our base has food, as well as places where you can rest. And that’s not all. We also have medicine and treatment facilities. It’s ideal for treating anybody that’s injured. Let us take you as soon as possible.” 

“That hideout.” Hayato and Jin looked at you confused. “It hasn’t been found out by other demons or the Ratri clan, Has it? Even though you’ve destroyed several farms already...”

“Up until this point, we haven’t been attacked by the enemy.”

“Hey Jin, About how far from here is your hideaway?” Ray questioned.

“Uhhm, and what about the ‘Neck of the Giraffe’? Is it near there?” 

“You mean ‘the lion’s jaw’?”

“No. That rock is just the halfway point. From there, the hideaway is about a 2 day walk. The exact location is unknown to all but a select few within our group.”

“Sorry for doubting you. I’d like to ask you for some information.” Ray said.

“But is it okay? Taking outsiders like us directly to your hideout.” Anna asked. “Of course! It’s what the boss wanted us to do. And because you are all our saviors!”

“Thank you.” Emma and Hayato shooked hands. “I look forward to working with you.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Emma, Anna, Ray and Hayato went to one of the enemy’s base since Cristy’s condition is unexpectedly changing.

Once they went back, you noticed that there was another person with them. You smiled as Cristy’s medicine was working.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Two days later...

You looked at the trees in surprise. “I can’t believe these trees!” ‘It’s a forest!” “But way bigger than all the others we’ve seen!”

“Is the hideout in there?” Oliver asked. Jin nodded. “Yes! We’ve almost arrived.” You were excited and nervous to finally find their boss and other children like you. “I’ll go ahead first to tell the boss about you folks! Jin, Zazie, show the way to our friends and keep ‘em safe!” Hayato said before he ran faster than a normal human speed. Everyone except for the said two was surprised at Hayato’s incredible speed.

“Here it is. This is our hideout.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Jin showed all of you the places and you looked at all of them in awe. ‘They all have smiles on their faces.’ You thought, smiling yourself.

“Welcome!” “Whoa! The fugitives are here, Dude!” “Nice to meet you!” “Welcome!” The kids greeted. ‘This is the paradise that Minerva built...’.

The other kids gave all of you sweets, which you thanked for. Hayato came back and said “The boss wants to meet the leader!” Oliver nodded to Emma and she nodded back. “I’ll be back soon!” Emma waved. You all waved back and talked to the other kids.

You are lying if your not curious what Minerva looks like. 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Emma showed ‘William Minerva’ the family. “This is our family now!” She happily exclaimed. “It’s gotten quite large. What a great family!” You know that voice...

“Hu.. Huh?! What do you mean?” “Wait what?? Minerva was...” “You’re alive!? The real thing?!” Everyone started to tear up. You weren’t looking for a short while, interested in the books. Once you heard them talking, you looked at them confused. “That kid is from Emma’s pictures..” “Eh?... But that kid was.” “22194, 22194.” Adam repeated. Of course! You remember that number!.

“NORMAN!!!” The kids shouted. “I’m so happy. You’re alive!! You’re alive!!!”

You looked at the trio happily hugging each other. It made your heart melt. “Where’s Y/n..?” He asked, hoping to see you in the big crowd of his family. The others who were blocking your figure moved for him to see you. You looked at him with tears in your eyes. “I missed you Norman!!” You broke down and tackled him. 

Tears also started to fall in his eyes. He hugged you tightly and both of you were in the position for a few seconds. People looked at both of you knowingly that you both deeply care for each other. “I’m so glad you’re alive..!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Norman gave all of you of where your home is. And the four of you played chess and many more. You rested your head on Norman’s shoulder, Emma was beside you resting her head on your shoulder, Ray rested his head on the bed and Norman’s other shoulder,and Norman was resting his head on your head, holding your hand.

Norman hoped he could confess to you one day. And he knows he will. He just hopes it will be sooner than later.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

E/n: I kinda got lazy with this. So please bear with me.

[ballerinaroy]

Heyy, can you please write a sequel to the one where ron and hermione go to the astronomy tower after the hinny kiss? And maybe when she finally makes ron forget about the hinny thing with conversation they bump into ginny and harry coming back to gryffindor tower and everything is a little weird again, plus now ron and hermione were alone somewhere and maybe ginny and harry get suspicious idk. Sorry if this is long, love your writing, thank youu💞💞

Omg, I loved this. I picture the perfect sitcom hiding from one another in my head. Hope you enjoy!

Part I Here!

He’d barely noticed it getting dark but suddenly, when Ron glanced up the sky was bursting with stars where the clouds let them break hrough. It took his breath away a little, the way they were twinkling at him. Beside him, he heard a giggle and he glanced over at Hermione.

“What?” he challenged in a jovial manner.

“You look…happy.”

And he did. In fact, he felt better than he had in weeks. Ever since he and Lavender had broken up, there had been a certain cordialness between him and Hermione but now, just like the clouds had parted, he felt the barrier between them lift.

“The stars,” he said, leaning in and pointing up as if Hermione was unaware of where they were. “Look at them.”

She amused him, following to where he was pointing but after a second he saw it register for her too. The little gasp, the adorable way her lips parted and eyes twinkled with delight.

“I’ve never seen so many,” Hermione said.

“Someone never paid attention in astronomy,” he teased and Hermione looked at him, ready to argue but then her smile was back.

“You know what I mean,” she said even though he really didn’t. “I never got to enjoy them in class, I was half asleep and trying to do a good job.”

“Ah,” he said, turning his head back towards the night sky.

“We’ve missed curfew,” Hermione said suddenly with alarm.

Ron, more casually, glanced down at his watch. “So we have.”

“We have to get back,” Hermione said, getting to her feet. “If we get caught by the prefects-“

“Hermione?” he said, even as he got up, vanishing some of the wrappers. “We are prefects.”

Yet Hermione didn’t look comforted by this fact. Rather her frown only deepened. “That’s worse, you do know that’s worse, right?”

He nodded, putting on a serious look.

Seeing through him, Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. “We’re supposed to be setting an example, Ron, think about how this’ll look.”

“We’re only off by a few minutes,” Ron comforted her as they set off down the spiral staircase, following Hermione who was practically at a jog.

“It’s half an hour past,” Hermione hissed, glancing out into the corridor before setting off at the same brisk pace.

Ron didn’t argue with her, still amused that she could get so upset over breaking the rules even after doing just that dozens of times. Luckily they weren’t far from the common room and given their pace they reached it in no time at all. 

Without any warning, Hermione grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. Too stunned for words, he stared down at her, wondering what might have come over her for this new development. Already he was ducking his head to kiss her when he realized that this wasn’t making a move on him and rather staring down the corridor.

“What?” he asked, following her line of vision.

“I hear someone,” she whispered, pressing closer to him.

Without thinking, Ron put his arm around her and she looked up at him in surprise. The pair which had just appeared by one of the hidden staircases stopped, stooping into the shadows and falling silent.

“What do we do?” Hermione whispered when the other pair did not emerge. “We can’t get back into the common room without them seeing us.”

Indeed they’d come to a stalemate, the entrance to the Gryffindor common room down an equidistant corridor. They couldn’t emerge from their simi hiding spot without seeing one another.

“Exert our authority,” Ron said, pushing away from the wall even as Hermione tugged on his arm to hold him back. “Hermione, we’re prefects, remember?”

“Oh,” she fussed, not letting go of his hand as Ron walked, confidently down the hall.

“Oi!” he shouted. “I know you’re there.”

“Ron?”

He knew that voice. Ron watched, with some degree of nausea, as Harry and Ginny popped out from an alcove meant only for one.

“What are you doing out so late?” Hermione asked, one hand on her hip.

“I could ask you the same question,” Ginny replied, looking down at their joined hands pointedly which promptly separated.

“We were out for a walk,” Hermione explained, “Lost track of time.”

“Right,” Harry drew out the word, “A walk. So were we.”

Hermione flushed.

“Funny, somehow our walk didn’t involve getting twigs in my hair,” Ron said, reaching over and plucking some piece of wood from his sister’s plait.

She turned a dangerous shade of red and Ron noticed that Harry stopped meeting his eye.

“Come on,” Hermione said, glancing around the corridor again. “We’d better get back.”

The four hurried up the corridor, Ginny giving the password and it was only once they were safely inside did they speaking.

“Harry, ready for bed?” Ron asked.

“Er, I’m going to say goodnight to Ginny,” he said, his cheeks turning pink as Ginny led him over to a more secluded corner.

“Good night,” Hermione said, steering Ron away from Harry and Ginny who looked like they had more on their minds than a simple goodbye. She marched him all the way over to the entrance to the boy's dormitory and gave him a pointed look.

“I’m going to have to talk to him eventually you know,” he pointed out, a little annoyed that she was running so much interference.

“I know,” she sighed, “just, let him have this.”

“He didn’t even tell me,” Ron said. He was surprised it hadn’t come up earlier in the night.

“And you should talk about that,” Hermione said, glancing over at the couple who were entwined around one another with wide smiles. “Just, give him tonight.”

Ron couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Harry so happy and gave a resigned sigh. “Alright.”

Giving up on interrogating (and quite possibly beating up) his best mate, he turned his attention to Hermione. “It was nice tonight, talking to you.”

She looked surprised to hear it. “Yeah, it really was.”

“I’m glad we could put it behind us.” He said, without really naming it. “That we can hang out again without it being weird.”

A smile spread across her face and suddenly he realized they were standing very close, her arm still interloped with his.

“I missed you,” she told him sincerely.

“Yeah?” he asked and she nodded. “Me too.”

They stood there for another minute and Ron got the same feeling he did when Hermione had shoved him up against the wall. Only now, he wondered whether or not the expression in her eyes meant she was thinking about kissing him too. But he was no good at reading signals, Lavender had pointed that out to him for all the times she’d been flirting at he’d missed it, and the moment passed.

“Goodnight, Ron,” Hermione said, letting go of his arm at last and as she walked away he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

[skiller0dani]

Aching Curiosity | Klaus Hargreeves

M A S T E R L I S T TUA Masterlist

smut requested requests info

I am now talking The Umbrella Academy Requests! See my requests info for the details. Klaus is my precious baby bean, he’s one of my favorite characters. god I am so hot for this man. like look at his smile, and his shoulders, and his neck, and his jaw, and his chest, and and~~ 

okay I’m done. enjoy xx

You knew he was a mess when you met him. 

You could tell before he even spoke a single word to you that his life was falling apart, even with the cheeky smile he sent your way, along with the palm that read Hello. Reginald Hargreeves had hired you recently as a maid, cook, personal assistant to Grace. You knew almost nothing about him or his 7 strange children, other than that there were comic books written about them, along with action figure toys made. You’d always found that odd, was it because Mr. Hargreeves was rich? One of his daughters, Vanya Hargreeves had released a book but you have yet to pick up a copy. You were employed to her father, it felt like spying on him. Even after Mr. Hargreeve’s death you remained with Grace and Pogo-  it didn’t take you long to figure out what made the Hargreeve’s children so famous. 

One has super strength, Luther.  One never misses, ever, Diego.  One can control peoples minds, Allison.  One can speak to the dead, Klaus.  One can time travel and teleport short distances, Five.  One had tentacles emerge from his body, Ben. And one was completely ordinary, Vanya.  

While you had met most of Mr. Hargreeves children, Ben had passed away a few years prior and Five went missing nearly 16 years ago. Either way none of the children lived in the house anymore, you spent your days with Mr. Hargreeves, Grace, and Pogo. Until the untimely death of Mr. Hargreeves. 

As soon as he’d stepped foot in the door, you knew he was a mess. There was black rimming his red hazy eyes, a joint in one hand and a big lazy smile on his face. An eyebrow cocked when Klaus’s eyes landed on you, and the other eyebrow joined when his eyes trailed over your uniform. He had a bottle in his palm and his tongue darted out to catch a drop rolling down the side. Grace came up behind you, “welcome home dear. This is Y/N, your father’s new maid.” She smiled, her eyes wide and robotic as Klaus pressed a kiss to her cheek. Your heart felt as though it was beating like wild when Klaus turned to regard you once again, a smile was pressed to his face and you waited in anticipation when he opened his mouth. “Why the hell would you take a job here?” A short laugh escaped as a huff from his mouth before he’s turning for the living room- and a bar. 

With only 1 person, 1 robot, and a monkey living in the house it wasn’t particularly dirty. Pogo gave you your instructions most of the time but since Mr. Hargreeves died he didn’t have much of anything for you to do. Most often you roamed around the house, admiring the books or examining the individual brush strokes of each painting. You followed Klaus into the living room, where your eyes landed on a painting of Five. Klaus leaned against the bar, another bottle in his hand. He tilts his head back as he ingests what you hope is a medication that was prescribed to him. Based upon his appearance however, you doubt it. 

“Why did you take this job?” He asked, turning around so that his back is pressed against the bar. 

“Good pay.” You say simply, truth is, is that there’s more to it than that. But you don’t feel like saying your sob story to a drunk pill popper. Klaus must have caught wind of your timidness as an almost greedy smile crossed onto his face before he pushed away from the bar. He swayed from foot to foot before finding his balance. You felt heat simmering in your lower belly as Klaus towered over you, his eyes narrowed. A teasing smile stretched across his lips, “my father was probably the most miserable person to be around, and you chose to spend all day with him, every single day for... good pay?” Klaus inquires, a sarcastic tone in his voice as he leaned down to look you in the eyes. You blushed under his hard stare. 

“You’re either really lonely or really desperate.” Klaus shrugged, standing up straight. He had to have been the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on even though he had an air of femininity to him, which strangely made him more attractive. Feeling embarrassed by his interrogation you make a beeline for the staircase, watching Klaus’s smile turn upwards in victory as you retreat. 

It wasn’t until hours later that you’d seen Klaus again, and this time he sought you out. The sun had long set under the edge of the city, and most of all the other siblings had arrived- even Five. Which you couldn’t wrap your head around still- the image of him falling from the sky replaying in your head. You were tidying your cramped bedroom, or rather broom cupboard that Mr. Hargreeves had given you to use as a bedroom. You folded clothes, yours and Grace’s to be exact, so they would be ready to put away the following morning. One harsh knock, followed by 2 more took your attention from the laundry in front of you. You almost never had anyone knocking at your door, and all the siblings except for Klaus and Vanya had all but ignored you. You didn’t take it personally, they did just lose someone although you’re not sure Mr. Hargreeves was very important to them. 

“Klaus?” You were confused to say the least to see him leaning against the wall opposite your bedroom. He had a smile resting lazily on his face and in his hand he held a bottle and two glasses. “Have a drink with me.” There was a twinkle in his eyes and you knew already that you lacked the strength to turn him away, it was curiosity that drove you forward. You took one of the glasses as you led him down the hallway, your bedroom was far too small to sit comfortably in. “Mine.” Klaus said as he snatched your wrist, and with a short nod you were following him back through the house towards his own- much larger- bedroom. 

You felt nervous as you crossed the threshold into his bedroom. Klaus collapsed against his bed, and you stood stiff as a board in the doorway. “Sit down, Jesus before you turn into a fucking statue.” Klaus grumbled with a playful smile, and you try to ease your nerves as you sit on some cushions he has placed on the floor. Being alone with Klaus, sent tendrils of electricity pulsing through your entire body, and you’d only known him a few hours. You felt a strong magnetic pull towards him and anytime the opportunity presented itself, you allowed your eyes to take peaks of his body. Klaus poured the clear liqueur into his glass and you followed suit. 

“Why did you really take this job?” Klaus asked after the 4th glass, and to your surprised he still seems pretty composed. You were on your third glass and were already starting to feel the alcohol’s effects. You let out a deep breath as you slam the rest of the alcohol in your glass, “needed an escape. Somewhere I felt safe, my ex boyfriend is a real piece of work.” You say with a sigh and Klaus’s eyebrows furrow together as he scoots of the bed to sit on the floor with you. “He used to go on drunk tangents, would break stuff, threaten to hurt me. He scared me so when I got the offer from Mr. Hargreeves to be a live in maid, I immediately said yes.” You didn’t realize tears were in your eyes until Klaus was brushing one away as it fell down your cheek. A dark look flashed in Klaus’s eyes before he was cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look into his eyes. 

“Did he ever hurt you?” There’s a haziness in his eyes but you can tell he’s being serious. You shook your head, even though it was a lie. Your ex boyfriend definitely has hurt you before, but something tells you that this would upset Klaus beyond belief and you don’t want him to worry. When you noticed Klaus’s eyes locked on your lips your heart jumped in your throat. You froze as he inched forward, giving you plenty of time to stop him. Much to his delight, you don’t stop him before he presses his lips against yours. Normally Klaus isn’t this assertive, tending to be more submissive but he can practically taste the timidness coming from you. He wants to feel your lips on his, to feel your body on his and he knows that won’t happen unless he takes the lead. 

At first you’re stiff, but when Klaus’s hand tangles into your hair at the back of your head you immediately melt against him. Knocking the glasses aside you lean up into his inviting lips as his tongue slides across your bottom lip. Klaus cups your cheek with his left hand, his other still tangled in your hair as he presses you more firmly against his mouth. You feel like there’s a drum beating in your chest as you lean up on your knees to press against Klaus. He falls back against his bed, and in your drunken haze you crawl frantically onto his lap. You grind your hips down on his hardening bulge, your brain fogged by alcohol and lust. All you can feel is him- lips and tongues and teeth and hands wandering all over each other’s bodies. After a few minutes of a heated make-out session you finally regain your sanity and come to your senses. Klaus’s lust blown eyes stay locked on you as you have your hands pressed to his shoulders. 

“What’s wrong?” His question is genuine and his chest is heaving as he catches his breath. Your lips are pink and swollen as your heart hammers wildly in your chest, “K-Klaus I can’t. I’m a virgin.” You whisper the last part, your mind screaming at itself for not having lost your virginity yet. Your body longs desperately for him, for his cock to be buried inside you. Klaus leans against his bed, his chest heaving, “oh.” Is all he manages to huff out. His lips are tingling and all the blood is rushing to his cock. His hands grab at your hips, his grip his loosening even after your confession. “Well that’s okay, I don’t mind.” Klaus shrugs, his eyes scanning your face but he can’t tear his gaze away from your lips for very long. Your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline, “you still want to...you know...with me...even though I’m a virgin?” Your cheeks blush darkly as the words stammer from your lips. Klaus smiles like a schoolboy, “oh yeah.” He reassures, his hands ghosting up and down your sides. 

Timidly, you press your lips against his once more. Klaus moans into your mouth at the contact, his hand reaching up to cradle the back of your head. The kisses become more and more desperate as your lips begin to move against his faster. Klaus’s hand drifts up your back to suddenly push your body against his, your breasts crushed against his chest. “You sure you’re okay,” he starts, beginning to kiss down your neck, “with me popping your cherry?” Klaus gasps in between kisses as he nips at your neck. Your hands grab at his biceps as you moan softly, feeling his lips working down your neck to your collarbones. “Mhm I’m sure.” You whisper lazily, your head rolling back as Klaus’s mouth presses wet kisses to the tops of your breasts- still mostly covered by your shirt. “If you want me to stop just say so.” He says, pulling away from you to look in your eyes. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought you were gay when I first met you.” You muse aloud as his mouth returns to pressing kisses to your collarbones. Klaus chuckles as he thumbs the bottom of your shirt- you quickly get the hint and nervously pull the fabric up and over your head. “Oh baby I don’t fit in any one box, I fuck whatever makes my dick hard. Be it a man, woman, I don’t care.” Klaus mumbles, his lips exploring the newly exposed skin. Your breasts are nearly spilling from your bra when Klaus’s hands hastily yanks your bra down to expose them to him completely. His eyes widen and Klaus swears his mouth is watering at the sight of you, “fuck” Klaus hisses under his breath. Fumbling with the clasp Klaus eventually just yanks the bra off, tearing it in half as he does so. You moan as he does so, and Klaus arches a brow at your response. 

Klaus is leaning down to capture one of your hardened nipples into his mouth as his other hand drifts down your stomach. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as his teeth bite down on your nipple, forcing a cry of both pain and pleasure to erupt from your mouth. You reach up to cover your mouth with your palm but Klaus gently removes your hand, “I want them to hear you.” As soon as the words leave his lips you feel a rush of arousal head south, dampening your panties. Klaus dips his hand into your sleep shorts as you pull at his shirt, helping him yank it over his head. You stayed in his lap, subconsciously grinding against him as his fingers make contact with your aching clit. 

“Am I not going fast enough darling?” Klaus teases as he watches your hips lazily roll against his hard cock on their own accord. A blush darkens your cheeks as you play with the short hairs on the back of his neck. You shake your head, “faster.” You whisper, your empty pussy clenching around nothing. Klaus presses a quick kiss to your lips before lifting you with him as he stands. Turning around, Klaus gently lays you back on the bed, and your heart is hammering hard. Your head is still hazy with alcohol, and all you can think about is Klaus’s cock pushing inside you. Klaus reaches up to hook his fingers into your sleep shorts and panties, and he yanks them down your legs with one quick yank. Once you’re laying completely naked underneath him you squirm from the heated look he’s giving you. Klaus’s fingertips brush against your tummy, a wide grin splitting across his face. 

Gliding his fingers through your folds, you whine loudly while Klaus hums appreciatively at how wet you are. Prodding a finger against your entrance, Klaus very gently pushes a finger into you. Your legs spread open further as you moan softly, feeling sparks shooting through your entire body. Klaus begins to steadily pump a finger into you, and he can’t take his fucking eyes off you. Your back is arched slightly as the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard tumble from your parted lips. Very carefully Klaus adds a second finger and you groan, your fists curling into the sheets as you already feel a climax approaching. Seeming to sense your orgasm as well, Klaus pulls his fingers from your wet pussy immediately, standing straight. Your chest is heaving as your head thumps back against the pillow, but you lift your head when you hear Klaus undoing his jeans. 

When his tight pants are shimmied off his legs you can’t take your eyes off the prominent bulge in his boxer briefs. Klaus leans down to press a sweet kiss to your lips before digging around his bedside drawer, his mouth turning up to a smile when he pulls out what he was looking for. A condom. “Hold this for me okay baby?” Klaus says gently, sensing your nerves coming back. You swallow thickly as your trembling hands reach forward to take the condom from him. “Still want to do this?” He asks as his fingers curl into the waistband of his briefs. You nod instantly. Klaus smiles before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before pushing his briefs down his legs, allowing his leaking cock to spring free. Klaus hisses in relief as his aching cock hits the cool air and he smiles at you before plucking the condom from your shaking hands. 

You watch as Klaus tears the condom wrapper open to slowly roll the condom down his shaft. You swallow thickly as you part your thighs for him, settling your head into the pillow as Klaus leans over you. “Will it fit?” You ask, feeling dumb for even asking. But Klaus simply presses another kiss to your lips as he nudges the blushing head against your wet opening. “Don’t worry baby, it’ll fit.” Klaus reassures, one of his hands snaking between your bodies to line himself up. Once Klaus slots the head of his cock against your tight opening he looks up at you before does anything, “are you absolutely sure you want this? I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow with regrets.” He says, his face falling. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, “I’m sure. If we don’t do this, that will be the only thing I’ll regret tomorrow morning.” You whisper as you pepper kisses along his neck and shoulder. Klaus licks his lips with a nod and a small smile. 

Very gently Klaus begins to push into you, his lips pressing sweetly against yours as a cry of pain begins to escape your lips. Klaus’s hands find yours as he slowly works the head into you, and you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the pain. Klaus begins to slide the shaft into you and your mouth falls open as tears drip down your cheeks, the burning is unbearable. Noticing your tears Klaus panics and comes to a halt, “oh shit I’m so sorry, am I hurting you? Do you want to stop? W-we can stop-” His voice is bordering on frantic as he brushes your tears away quickly. You cut him off by pressing your lips against his, but when you pull away you still see the panicked and guilty look in his eyes. “Please keep going, I don’t want to stop.” You beg, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. Klaus remains still inside you, he looks unsure. “Klaus please, please I want this. I want you, I can take the pain.” You plead, and finally he gives in.

Klaus very timidly resumes working himself into you, his eyes darting back up to scan over your face as he slides into you. Eventually he hits the hymen and by now he’s damn near panting because of how tight you are hugging his cock, and it’s taking every ounce of self control for him not to pound into your little pussy. Klaus presses his forehead against yours, his arms curling around your body as he surges his hips forward- breaking your hymen and sliding fully inside you. You gasp in pain as your arms wind tightly around him, holding onto his back. Klaus pants into your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Holy shit,” He gasps, and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. Klaus sits still inside you, waiting until you give him the green light to move. 

After about 5 minutes you release a shaky breath, the burning subsiding. “You can move, but gently okay?” You tell him, your words muffled by the skin of his neck. Klaus leans up on his elbows, as he brushes his nose against yours. He gently pulls his hips back before slowly sliding back into you. The small thrust has stars bursting behind your eyes as your nails dig into his back. Klaus continues his gentle thrusts, sliding back in with a little more force then before. As he feels the pleasure building in his stomach Klaus’s lips frantically find yours, his thumb reaching down to roll your clit as he sweetly fucks into you. You kiss him back with fervor, feeling your own climax approaching again. “Please don’t stop, fuck Klaus don’t stop.” Your pleas spur him on as he gently fucks into you a little harder, rubbing harsh circles onto your clit. “Oh God Klaus fuck I’m-I’m-” Before you can finish your sentence, you’re clenching hard around his cock as you cum. You gush around him as he cums in hot spurts into the condom as soon as he feels you clamp around him. 

Chest heaving, Klaus pulls out of you with a wince to discard of the condom. There’s a dull ache between your thighs and your legs feel like jello. Klaus comes back to bed and collapses next to you, a smile stretched across his face. He flicks his lamp off, and he brushes his nose against yours. “Did I do okay?” Klaus asks, insecurity creeping into his voice. You wrap your arms around him to pull him against you, “you did perfect.” You reassure him and he nuzzles his head against your chest, before the two of you drift to sleep. 

The next morning you’re being carried to the kitchen on Klaus’s back. You had tried to stand but your legs wobbled and you fell back against him. That’s when he scooped you into his arms and began to piggyback carry you around the house on his back. As the two of you enter the kitchen, Diego raises his eyebrows. “Did you have a good night?” He asks, a knowing smile on his face. You blush and open your mouth to try to deny it or even explain yourself but Klaus smiles widely, “fuck yeah I did! I totally got laid.” You hide your face in his back in embarrassment, feeling the vibrations of his laughter. 

[missdawnandherdusk]

Break On Me

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One    Part Two    Part Three    

Part Four     Part Five    Part Six

Summary: After reading your mother’s letter all walls between you and the Slytherin Prince seem to vanish as you spend a quiet night together, for the first time without masks on. 

A/N: I am really debating rewriting the entire rest of the HP series with this plot line... so let me know what you think of that. Because I am a firm believer that JKR did Draco wrong and that he deserves to be saved too. But who listens to me? I’m just a hopeless romantic with too much time on her hands. Also Hello! How are you guys? Please stay safe and stay creative.

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg​ @queenfeatherwings​ @fanficflaneuse​

My hands lowered as my eyes lifted to Draco’s face. There were tears in his eyes.

“Draco? What’s wrong?” I dropped the letter and cupped his face, wiping away a stray tear. “It was just a letter. Please, don’t... don’t cry, because if you cry, I’m going to cry,” Tears started to sting my eyes.

A smile reached his face as a laugh bubbled through his lips. It was the first time I head heard him laugh without malicious intent.

“Draco?” I asked again, slightly confused.

“Your mother is proud of me?” He laughed. “No one... no one has ever...”

My heart fell for him. No one ever told him that they were proud of him? After everything he had achieved. I let out a hopeless laugh and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close. His arms wound around me, holding me tightly.

“Let me make this better?” I begged softly. “Please Draco, let me show you how I see you. Forget names and houses and pure bloods and legacies.”

He nodded and his grip on me tightened. One of my hands curled into his hair, surprised by the softness of it. His frame shook as I held him, and I could hear the muffled cries that came from his lips. I held him closer, tears of my own escaping.

Why had it come to this? Who had the right to take a boy and twist him into cruelty and malice and think it was okay? When had names and legacies and rivalries become more important than helping each other? When had anything negated the right to be loved?

We ended up in a heap on the floor, holding each other and letting tears escape now and again for things that we both held back for so long. My mother’s letter was folded neatly and tucked into my robe pocket.

“It’s late,” He murmured softly, “We need to get back,”

I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t want to go back,” I mumbled. “I don’t want to face...” I trailed off knowing exactly what awaited me when I got back to the Gryffindor common room.

He went rigid and his grip on me tightened.

“I’m going to kill that Potter,” He muttered venomously.

A smile touched my lips as I looked up at him through my eyelashes.

“No, you won’t,” I reaffirmed, taking a long breath in. “I knew what I was doing when I started this, and I’ll do what it takes... whatever it takes,”

“But they’re your friends,” He tried. “You’re going to give that up for me?” I pursed my lips and sat up a bit, looking at him directly.

“When are you going to realize that you’re worth so much more than what you believe?” I took his hand in mine. “And friend is a loose term, I told you before, Harry is...” I searched for the right word, “bearable.” I decided and shrugged. “Friends were never my strong suit.”

“Oh, you’re joking,” He scoffed. “You know everyone in the school! Everyone talks to you! Even first years!”

I laughed at his response and stood, pulling him up with me.

“And I have what? Two good friends? That I actually talk to?” I pointed out.

“So, you talk to Ron then?” He was glum again.

“Oh, my stars, Malfoy,” I laughed rolling my eyes. “You! You’re my other friend! If that’s even what this is and not...” I trailed off.

“Not?” He prompted, quirking an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“You’re making this very difficult,” I snapped, a smile on my face still. “I don’t know Draco, what is this?” I gestured to the two of us.

“What do you want it to be?” His voice was still teasing, but there was a tone of uncertainty underneath.

I gnawed on my lips trying to find the exact words that I wanted to say and not what first popped into my head which was “well, I wouldn’t mind kissing you any time I wanted.” But maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say at the moment.

“I have spent the last month trying to figure out what goes through your head when you’re quiet like this, for the love of Merlin tell me what you’re thinking.” He complained.

“The truth?” I squeaked, my face growing warm.

He nodded, his blue eyes interrogating me as he took another step forward. I could feel the electric current again that heightened all of my senses. As if there were a good sort of adrenaline.

I can’t believe that I was going to say what I actually thought or that he was the only one who could get me to say it. I hated him for it.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing you any time I wanted,” I breathed out

“Is that so?” He was teasing me and we both knew it, but it still got under my skin.

“You’re such a twat,” I muttered, shaking my head and looking down, my cheeks a bright red no doubt.

“One you like kissing,” He taunted, a wicked grin on his face.

His hand came up and tilted my chin back so that I was forced to look at him. The same amused expression he used when he jeered at another student resided there, but it was somehow different—softer, kinder.

“So, are you gonna kiss me or not?” I tried to quip, but it came out as more of a plea.

We were inches apart again, and the same electric current ran between us. This time he acted on it, not me. His hand came up gently and cupped my face, letting his lips find mine. Something soft and slow.

A goodnight kiss.

My hands fanned out over his shoulders, grounding me to the world around us as his other hand held my waist again. No one knew this side of him, the gentle and protective. I did. And it made me want to cry all over again that I got to be the one to know him like this.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing you any time I wanted either,” He murmured, his lips a breath away from mine as I struggled to recover—or not kiss him again.

_____________________

When he was close to you like this, away from it all, it was easy to believe you. Knowing that he could be more than a Malfoy, be more than a Slytherin, he clung to it, and he clung to you.

And the way you trusted him to be near—kiss you even—without fear or distain, meant the world to him. You were the last person who had any reason to and you were still there beside him.

There was so much to deal with and worry about, but you seemed to silence all of those thoughts and fears with a gentle touch, a kind look, or a chaste kiss.

And he wasn’t lying, he really wouldn’t mind kissing you any time. Everything about you screamed comfort and warmth, and it was his to take is he wanted, because you offered it to him, and only him and...

And he loved it.

He didn’t care about labels or relationship statuses; he just wanted you to be his and only his to kiss like this, to share his secret hiding spot, to cry on your shoulder alone, and find comfort in you alone.

“Really?” You voice was soft and careful—not his courageous Gryffindor, just his sweet Y/n. 

He nodded and watched your tongue dart between your lips, rewetting them as you thought.

“We should head back,” You murmured, your forehead resting against his. “I doubt Snape or McGonagall will be too forgiving.”

He feared leaving this place and leaving you. As if it might be some dream and he was going to be forced to wake up and go back to the way things were. As if it were some cruel trick that his mind wanted to play on him.

“Draco,” You chided, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Yeah?”

A laugh escaped from your lips as you pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before taking his hand and bending down to open the trap door. He watched you intently, and even more so than he had the past three weeks because now he had no reason to hide his careful gaze.

At the base of the staircase, you wrapped your arms around him once more in a short hug and— to his dismay—you ruffled his hair before taking off towards the Gryffindor Tower, tomorrow promised in your eyes.

Back in his own Common Room, there were a few lagging students who didn’t say anything to him or his death threatening glare as he headed up to his room.

Crabbe and Goyle both looked to him for answers, but he didn’t say a word. Instead he changed for bed and brushed up on his Care for Mythical Creatures notes before the lesson tomorrow. It deemed difficult to concentrate however because you always snuck back into his thoughts, either with a snide remark, or a gentle word, or a phantom touch that left him unable to focus.

So, he gave up studying and decided to answer your mother’s letter. 

~

Dear Mrs. Lupine

I will protect your daughter and try to live up to the version of me what she has presented to you. I cannot promise that I will always achieve it or that I won’t fail. But I will try to be someone worthy of her time and of her heart.

You are right in thinking that I think it’s preposterous that I am the Malfoy to mend the bond between muggle born and pure bloods. Not to mention that my father would have a few choice words of his own and I can hear them now.

But I have no doubt that whatever Y/n puts her mind to, she can achieve whether I help, or attempt stop her. She got through to me, didn’t she? But I will try to help her in whatever she decides.

I say this to you in confidence in hope that I may deserve the place your daughter has given me beside her.

Draco Malfoy

~

Sealing the letter, he sent it off into the night and turned in for bed with you all but there physically beside him.

________________________

I stood in front of the portrait of the fat lady and took a deep breath, gathering what courage and strength I had left and entered the Common Room.

But there was no one there. Maybe that was worse. I headed up to my room, cautions and on the lookout; I didn’t know what was waiting for me.

Back in my room I saw that Hermione had already gone to bed and the lamp beside my bed was the only thing that illuminated the room.

As quietly as possible, I pulled out a parchment and wrote a quick letter to my mother telling her that I would write her more when I figured out what I wanted to say. There was so much to sort through, but I would let her know soon enough. And that I loved her.

That left me alone with my thoughts again. Draco presided in most of them. His touch, his laugh, the way his eyes really were like the refreshing water of a spring. My thoughts drifted back to

Snape’s class and the antidote challenge. The taste of the antidote held a small candle to what it was like to be near Draco... did that mean that what my mother said about the... Consentire Animi Pace was true? That it could exist between us?

I huffed and stared at the ceiling, the thoughts ever circling. It laid there about an hour, no closer to sleep then when I had started. Giving up on the notion, I sat up and turned my lamp back on. Not really sure of what to do, I pulled out another parchment and wrote to Draco with Penelope twittering on my sill.

~

Draco,

I can’t sleep, so I’m writing this to you. I hope that you’re sleeping, you could use it.

I’ve been thinking about what my mother said about the soul bond, and then to Snape’s Bellum Amoris and Animi Amoris. I can only assume that they’re connected because... when I’m with you I feel like I did after the antidote. I hope that makes sense. If not I’m sure you’ll make fun of me for it.

I’m also terrified to face anyone tomorrow. I’ve never done anything like this and without you by my side I don’t know if I have the courage. Slytherins and Gryffindors don’t get together like this and not us of all people. Not that I don’t want this, because I do. I want you. But I guess I’m caught up in what others think of me. Which is stupid, I know.

If you’re still awake... and a part of me hopes you are, please write back. And don’t forget to answer my mother. She worries.

Yours,

Y/n

~

I took a blanket and curled up on the window seat, awaiting an answer and watching the snow fall softly. When the clock neared three am, my body forced me into sleep, lulled by the

gentleness of the snow and calmness of the night, the feel of Draco’s arms around me and his lips on mine never fading.

.

.

Part 8

[madamichaicha]

Tryst (Kakashi x Mei)

The rather harsh and barbaric reputation of the Bloody Mist Village faded with its former leader’s passing. And in Yagura’s place, the young Godaime Mizukage transformed Kirigakure, and restored it to the highly functioning and prestigious shinobi nation it is today.

Mizukage Mei, an incendiary flower, a woman more perceptive than most and known for her lonesome beauty, had succeeded in stabilizing her village after such a dark and blood stained history. With time, her reputation preceded her, with reforming internal policies and improving diplomatic affairs, Mei tirelessly worked night and day, obliging her Kage duties and responsibilities. She was sacrificing her personal life, and all that it included, for the sake of the village and its people. But some days were harder than most, and on those days, Mei often found herself craving the touch of another. She really hated how picky she had become with age, and often cursed her damned sex drive. But she craved the intimate touch of another, especially after long and demanding days.

At the reminder of her most recent pact… a secret pact she had made just days prior, Mei chuckled darkly as she felt her cheeks warm at the fresh memory. Opening her window, trying to cool her flushed face, the Mizukage finished dressing and readied herself for the gala event the Feudal Lords and Daimyo were throwing downstairs in her honor, somewhat ignoring the faint but familiar chakra signature idling just stories below.

To think you would actually be waiting outside my window…  

Smirking under the long bangs that shrouded her face, Mei combed through her long locks one last time and applied a bit of color to her lips. After blowing herself a kiss in the mirror, she stood and made her exit, turning back to give the open window a last minute glance before disappearing into the stairwell.

With one hand gracing the banister, Mei descended the grand staircase in the most dignified of ways, all befitting of the prestigious diplomatic leader she had come to embody. With each stair, her long legs slipped through the thigh high slit in her cerulean gown, the light silk fabric flowing behind her with ease as she made her way down to the main floor, where her hand was met with an obligatory kiss from her head guard, Ao.

"We've got unexpected company, my lady."

"So it seems. Just remember what we discussed, and see that it gets taken care of."

"Yes ma’am."

"Be sure to fetch me when it’s done, okay?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Good. Now if you’ll excuse me… I have some schmoozing to do.”

With a deep and reflective inhale, Mei wore her seductive grin across the floor, her charisma guiding her through the crowd of cretins and pompous Lords and Ladies that had gathered in hopes of appeasing their Kage. It annoyed her to no end, but she had to control her emotions. What did these people know about being a shinobi… a kunoichi even? They knew nothing of pain, sacrifice, or true loss. The only loss they knew involved the loss of paper from their wallets. It was disgusting, really.

Day and night these pigs drool over me, bitching about money here and money there… offering mere pocket change for high rank missions, but dropping tons of cash for pointless ass kissing parties like this… these idiots! This whole party could have funded my shinobi for weeks! What a waste.

Clearing her thoughts and throat, Mei simply offered a polite and reserved smile… gritting her teeth to quell the lava she was tempted to spew during such trite and pointless conversations. They went nowhere and provided little, if any, substance. After making her rounds, talking to all the “important” individuals in attendance, she sat down at her chair at the head of the long and excessively adorned dining hall table where they were to enjoy an elegant five course meal.

Rolling her eyes at the pomp of it all, Mei sat displeased. Disinterested eyes watched everyone enjoy their meal, her restless and perfectly manicured nails drumming on the ostentatious table cloth. Bored with always being the center of attention, Mei often made it a point to stare down each one of the men who let their lingering gazes go unchecked in such long, lewd intervals. Even whilst their wives sat beside them, their disgusting glances still sought her out. But as she returned the favor, putting them under severe scrutiny, she reveled in watching them unravel and fall to pieces. They thought they were so smooth, but as soon as she played at their own game, they crumbled before her… mere specs of ash.

Ha, those pigs! They should be so lucky!

Scoffing at the useless scum littering her presence, her mind flashed with more appealing images, her cheeks flushing with remembrance.  

"Hmm, I wonder how things are going…" she whispered to herself, turning up the glass as she finished the remainder of her Sake.

Proving to be impatient and politely excusing herself from the table as the final course dishes were collected, the ball continued behind her, the music drowning out her enthusiastic humming as she jovially ascended the stairs. She couldn't bother waiting for a signal now, not when she knew he was so close.

Meanwhile…

Kakashi stood below the tallest building in Kirigakure, his eyes drifting towards the windows of the Kage quarters as he made his perimeter sweep. Noting the security detail at the front doors seemed to be excessive tonight, he watched from the shadows as fancy carriages and ornate palanquins brought in an endless parade of stuffy upper class citizens. Judging by their formal attire, and the distant hum of music, the festivities must have already started.

Satisfied that nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, Kakashi took a seat and leaned back against the pillars of the building across the street, pulling out his ever present copy of Icha Icha Special Shinobi Edition, now with twelve additional pages of full color illustrations. It had been a wondrous gift.

But before his eye could make its way through a whole page, he briefly glanced up at the lit window again, this time, wide open with its light blue curtains undulating in the breeze.

It had to be a sign.

Smiling to himself beneath the taut fabric of his mask, he laughed off his attempt to hinder his impatience, stowing his beloved book in his back pouch as he stood.

It was time for a quick visit.

Sleuthing through the dark of night, he made his way across the street in a flash. After he was sure he had not been seen by the guards, he concentrated his chakra to the bottoms of his feet and scoured up the building in no time, light on his toes as he slipped through the open window and into the seemingly empty room. With his eye searching for his target, his brow creased a bit as he felt some what disappointed.

Was his timing off?

Had he misread the situation?

Promising himself he’d return later in the evening, Kakashi sighed as he turned back towards the window. Before he could make his escape, he felt the air leave his lungs as he was thrown to the ground, his body hitting the floor with a jarring thud. Coughing and sputtering Kakashi held up his hands innocently, trying to explain the misconception, but his words fell on deaf ears as he was picked up and dragged along by two burly no-nonsense shinobi.

Tossing his body into a chair like it was a rag doll, the two voiceless thugs secured Kakashi’s hands behind the back of the chair. After his ankles had been bound to each leg of the chair as well, Ao stepped in front of the masked intruder, his stone cold stare beaming straight through the man who was laughing nervously at the whole situation.

"Look… I think there has been a huge misunderstanding. See, I was just-"

"Just trying to what? Creep into the Mizukage’s bedroom? Seems you really are just a pervert, aren’t you, Copy Nin?"

"Well, that is a matter of opinion. But you should know, I had no ill intentions towards Mei."

*SLAP*

"You dare use her first name in my presence, you perverted punk?! You shall address her as Lady Mizukage, unless you feel like losing that tongue of yours” Ao warned, pulling his hand back, satisfied with the harsh hit across the smug leaf ninja’s face.

Accustomed to interrogation and prisoner etiquette, Kakashi barely flinched as the back of Ao’s hand made contact on the curvature of his cheek bone, his exposed eye blinking once before staring back up at the narrowed eye of the other.

"I’m sure you’ll find that Lady Mizukage is rather attached to my tongue, as am I. So if you’ll just hear me out… I’m sure we can all have a good laugh about this.”

*SLAP*

Scoffing at the Copy Nin’s ill attempt at humor, Ao retracted his hand once again, pleased with his hit across the offending mouth. He really had no patience for this man, and was taking his job a little too seriously at this point, smirking down at the other with a sense of superiority.

Still tingly from the last backhand across his face, Kakashi chuckled briefly. Spitting a bit of blood out through his mask, he turned his amused face back towards the man in the eye patch who seemed to be enjoying this.

"I’m not interested in anything you have to say, Hatake. You are trespassing and I should have you dealt with accordingly. You are a long ways from home, so I’m having a hard time believing you just got lost. So save your tired excuses."

"What makes you think I have an excuse? I may have a legitimate reason for being here. Shouldn’t you ask questions first?" Kakashi lilted, a sly smirk hidden beneath his troublesome mask. "Seems they do things a little differently here in Mist.”

Just as Ao pulled his arm back to land another hit, the door opened abruptly and a sharp voice halted his efforts.

"Leave him to me, boys. You’re dismissed."

"Aw, but we were having so much fun together" Kakashi feigned, his glare never leaving Ao’s. He loved the fact that he could see the old man’s nerves unraveling his usually stoic features at the realization that his playtime was over.

As the two giant shinobi made their exit, Ao walked around Kakashi, lowering his head to his ear, making his final threat.

"If you hurt her, Kami-sama as my witness... I shall make you pay."

"Roger that" Kakashi nodded in response to the man’s brash promise, keeping further comments to himself as he heard the him clench his teeth and turn on his heel towards the door.

With the click of the lock, Kakashi’s smile seemed to reappear as Mei sauntered over behind her detainee, slim arms smoothing over his bound shoulders and down the taught expanse of his chest.

"Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, Ka-ka-shi" the Mizukage purred, her lips barely grazing the outer shell of his ear.

"Nothing I couldn’t handle, Mizukage-sama" the silver haired jonin disclosed in a gruff tone, his spine straightening as her breath tickled the side of his neck.

With her fingers clawing down his chest, a brief sigh left his lips, his curious eye watching her efforts as a hand ventured down across the front of his pants.

"Oh? It appears you like being tied up and toyed with. Does the great Copy Ninja Kakashi like to play rough?" she suggested, her hand following the curve of his growing erection.

"You have no idea."

"Don’t I?" Mei grinned as she walked around to face the tethered man, her elegant fingers raising his chin to her as they shared a prolonged look of hidden meaning.

Climbing atop Kakashi’s lap, straddling his seated form, green eyes combed over a masked face as she let a finger slip beneath the edge of the black cloth. Slowly sliding it down, the material pooled at the base of Kakashi's neck, revealing his full face for her to enjoy.

"Ao always did hate Leaf ninja… some things never change I guess" Mei pouted, leaning in to lick the remaining drop of blood off his slightly swollen lip.

"Good thing I got here when I did. Any more trouble, and I might not be able to enjoy this handsome face of yours" she teased, biting her bottom lip. “That mouth of yours does seem to get you in an awful lot of trouble.”

"It may get me into trouble, but it is more than capable of getting me out of any trouble I might find myself in” he confessed with a smirk.

The silence built between them, the tension palpable as they sat facing each other, a curious gleam in their eyes as they simultaneously broke down the wall between them. Without tender caresses or whispered sweet nothings, the two were upon each other, their faces colliding together, kisses filled with urgency as they both consumed each other arduously. She, a powerful Kage, and he, an infamous and highly decorated shinobi from another village. It was a thrill they both enjoyed.

In the the throws of their heated exchange, they silently agreed to use each other. They both knew all too well of the risks and irritating pretenses of the dating game, and chose to steer clear of that train wreck waiting to happen. Those were roads too often traveled for their liking, a mutual point they had both made very clear in nights prior.

As the Copy Nin's hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her sides pulling her close, he simply chuckled at her surprised gasp.

"Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle" he chirped, holding up his freed hands that he had released some time ago, making quick work of wriggling his feet free as well.

With an impressed nod, Mei crashed her lips upon his at once, humming delightedly as she felt his tongue slip between her lips, tapping at her own. As the searching muscles danced around, she put up an honorable fight for dominance before submitting to Kakashi’s fixed determination.

With a victorious growl, Kakashi ran his hands under her dress and up the finely toned thighs of the powerful woman atop him, his fingers meeting no resistance as they reached her hips.

"Naughty naughty, Mizukage” he teased, “No panties under this beautiful gown of yours?"

"What for? They only get in the way” she gasped between kisses, “You said so yourself."

"How very true. But let’s not forget why I came tonight, Mei-sama" Kakashi added in the darkest of tones. "We have unfinished business."

"Oh, that? Can’t it just wait until later?”

"No. Now” Kakashi demanded, ignoring her wanton groan as his hands squeezed her firm backside, picking her up as he stood from the chair.

Walking over towards the desk in her office chambers, Kakashi caught her lips once again, not interested in any excuses. He had an objective, and he wasn’t leaving until he completed his mission. He was stubborn and set in his ways, but even more so, he needed this and would not be convinced otherwise. They had both agreed to it.

Setting the Mizukage down upon her own desk, he attacked her neck, kissing and sucking his way down towards her collar bone, ripping the slit open to expose the porcelain skin of her lower half. Loving her mewls and moans wafting over his ear, he felt his blood boil with lust. His hands squeezed over her voluptuous endowments, fingers gripping the laces that were sewn tightly, but barely keeping her inside the dress, and ripping them open. This woman must be his. There was no question about it as he forced her legs open with his tight grip, kissing his way down between her now exposed breasts.

"So much for this dress... it was my favorite, too” she pouted.

“I'd get you another one, but I prefer you naked.”

“Really, Hatake, you ruin everything" she teased between sighs and hums of approval.

"Sign the papers" he countered, taking a pert nipple between his lips, staring into her eyes, awaiting her answer.

"I told you… that can wai-ahh!"

Grabbing her by the waist and flipping the frustrating woman over, Kakashi pressed his pelvis flush against her, holding her down against the desk. Withdrawing the folded papers from his inner vest pocket, the unyielding man leaned down over her back, slamming the document down onto the desk in front of her.

"Sign it, please” he begged, his voice straining behind his teeth.

"Why should I?"

"Because I know you want to... I won’t ask nicely again.”

"Is that a threat, Hatake-san?" her shaky voice questioned, hips impatiently pushing back against Kakashi’s prodding member.

"It’s a promise."

Leaning up, Kakashi let his hands push the dress up, exposing her bare ass as he let his hand come down harshly across one cheek with a loud slap.

"Sign it."

"You are a pushy one, aren’t you?"

With another slap across her other cheek, Kakashi dug his fingers into her flesh, urging her on.

"Ahhh!" her voice cried out at the stinging sensation filling her hind quarters.

"Sign it. Now.”

"But I seemed to have lost my pen…"

Another resounding smack filled the dimly lit room as he spanked her once again, his tingling hand removing a pen from his pocket, placing it on top of the papers in question.

"Sign it. Or I will tease you within an inch of your sanity. Do not test me."

Noting her stillness, Kakashi shook his head in disbelief. So this is how she wanted to play? Allowing a finger to slide down the cleft of her ass, he followed the curve down and around until he reached the sensitive bundle of nerves he was searching for. Lightly grazing the moistened bud between her legs, the weight of his torso pinned her flat against the desk, keeping her jolting body still amid his torture.

"Tsk, tsk. Not so fast. Sign the papers, and this can continue" he cooed, giving his fingers a flick across the swollen bud.

"Mmm...” she whimpered, unable to speak at the moment.

Judging by the lack of vocalization, Kakashi knew he was getting somewhere. Continuing his efforts, he let his finger slip between the slick folds at the apex of her thighs, his diligent digit sliding deep inside her warm cavern, urging her to follow his orders.

"Do it" he growled, his voice low and from the depths of his throat as he tried to coerce her through his ministrations.

Sighing as he removed his hand, he added another finger, before slowly reentering her again, pausing just as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Sign. The. Fucking. Papers."

"No! Don’t stop..."

Withdrawing his slippery fingers, smirking at the juice that dripped from each fingertip, Kakashi placed them into her mouth, not interested in hearing anything she had to say until her signature graced those pages.

With his free hand, the Hatake freed his own erection from its confines, nudging the head against her flooded entrance, making sure to never let it slip inside as he prodded against her, awaiting the delicious pressure that would engulf him.

"Sign it, and I’ll give you what you really want.”

"Ugh, you dare tease me?!" she yelled around his fingers.

"Who’s teasing? I told you what you have to do. Now do it."

"Fine!" she cried, licking his fingers clean like some sort of starving animal.

Grabbing the pen and signing her name across the blank, she huffed impatiently, "There! You happy now?!"

Smiling victoriously as the happiest man on earth, Kakashi kissed her neck, nudging her once again.

"Why yes I am, Hatake Mei-sama.”

With one swift thrust of his hips, Kakashi entered her fully, buried to the hilt in this woman… his woman. She was officially his now. They now belonged to each other, and only each other. Initially, she had joked about taking his name. But now that she was screaming it, he thought it very befitting.  

Their lewd noises filled the Kage’s private office quarters as Mei gripped onto the desk below her. With every roll of his hips, she felt her body shiver at the sensation of being filled so fully by this man. He was driving her crazy, and she was enjoying every minute of it.

Her panting breath and guttural moans divulged her true state of mind as she felt completely enraptured by the relentless man behind her. She loved that this was what she could now enjoy whenever she desired. Kakashi was not only a generous person, but also a generous lover. He made sure all her needs were met, and knew exactly what buttons she liked pushed.

Every time their bodies connected, the spark between them grew. They soon found themselves thirsting for the other in their absence. Seeing how they currently lived in separate villages in separate countries, their thirst developed into a violent need. It overpowered their senses and could cloud their judgment. As a leader and an elite shinobi, this was not a great side effect of their relationship, but soon that would all change.

Just as he claimed her on paper, he claimed her now. With a few last thrusts, Kakashi emptied his seed deep inside the woman he loved, collapsing on top of her. They felt their bodies melt after their simultaneous release, the exhaustion of orgasm had torn through them, leaving them both drained and sated.

As his vision returned to normal, Kakashi planted kisses along Mei's shoulder, his hands reaching under her, taking a breast in each palm. Kissing his way up to her neck, he smiled against the soft alabaster skin, loving the way her body was still twitching from their exhaustive efforts.

With her breath returning to her, Mei chuckled darkly as she licked the corners of her dry lips. “Well, that was certainly worth the wait.”

“Yes, it sure was” he agreed, wincing as he slipped out of her slowly.

“Aw, is play time over already?” she pouted, shivering at the loss of his body heat, the cool air hitting her exposed backside.

“For now, but I'm not done with you yet” he promised with a devious grin, “Tonight, My Dear, we celebrate.”

After zipping his pants, Kakashi extended a gentlemanly hand, helping Mei stand up from the desk. He chuckled as the rags of her dress fell down around her waist, leaving her chest exposed. The slit was ripped as well, leaving nothing to the imagination, but she was quite the sultry vision in her tattered cerulean silk.

Pursing her lips, the Kage planted both hands on her waist, looking down at her sad excuse of a gown, “What a mess you've made of me.”

Swiping the auburn bangs out of her face, Kakashi leaned forward, kissing her in apology, “You look beautiful.”

“I better, you're stuck with me now.”

“Gladly” he added, lifting her chin and claiming another kiss.

“I hate that you have to go now. When will I see you again, Dear?”

“Anytime you want” he quipped candidly.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Definitely.”

“How so?”

“I've got a little surprise for you.”

Collecting the signed papers from the desk, Kakashi put them in his pocket for safe keeping. Enjoying the confused look on his partner's face, he then retrieved the scroll from his pouch, laying it out across the desk for her to see. Upon the scroll was an intricately woven spiral seal, consisting of braided strands of characters and symbols, with a tied knot of sorts in the center.

“What am I looking at here, Kakashi?”

“It's a special contract I made for us.”

“Contract? But this looks more like a seal.”

“It's a summons. We'll soon be able to summon each other whenever we want. No more waiting. As my wife, whenever you need me, I'll be there.”

“How?” she questioned through a small grin forming on her lips.

“First, like any summons contract, we'll need to supply a blood sample and fingerprints to the center. Be sure to use your left hand for the prints, that will be part of the second step.”

Both bit their thumb, as they dripped blood over the knot in the center of the seal. Just beneath, they stamped their left hand prints, effectively signing the contract and sealing their bond for life.

“Now what?”

“Now, for step two” Kakashi smirked.

Centering himself in front of the scroll, Kakashi went through the tedious chain of never ending hand seals the contract required. With all the precision of a proficient fuinjutsu user, Kakashi made such a feat look relatively simple. After he made the last seal, he grabbed Mei's left hand, extending both of their hands over the contract.

“This may sting a little” he warned, “But it'll be worth it.”

Right before their eyes, small bands of the black characters appeared upon their left ring fingers. Slowly, but surely, the braided pattern of symbols was burned into their flesh. The sizzle of their skin was minimal, and even though it was more than a little sting, it wasn't any more than either of these seasoned shinobi could handle. After the burning stopped, the seals around their fingers glowed red, before fading to black.

It was done.

“Now,” Kakashi began, kissing the seal on her finger, “We can see each other whenever we please.”

“So, no more waiting?”

“Nope... and no more getting picked on by your body guards, either.”

“Now that, I can not help. You really do rub Ao the wrong way, Kakashi-kun” Mei laughed, kissing him generously.

“I guess the man was just doing his job and didn't know any better. I can appreciate that. Are you ever going to tell them who I am to you now, Dear?”

“Well,” she sighed sarcastically, “I guess you leave me no choice.”

They held each other closely, admiring the new tattoos on their finger. It symbolized their union, and neither of them cared if anyone knew about it now. As shinobi, they knew all too well the target that would be placed on the back of the one you loved most, but they were both more than capable of handling their own. No one dare stood a chance if they were to come between them and their bond now. It was written in blood, and could not be broken.

Their celebratory evening had indeed been fun and full of surprises, but as dawn broke, it was time to say goodbye. Mei tried to hold up the pieces of her torn dress as they walked shoulder to shoulder down the hall of her living quarters towards the open window at the end. Kakashi jumped up on the window sill, turning around to claim one last kiss before he began his journey home.

They were both exhausted, haggard in appearance, and in desperate need of sleep... but it was worth it. Blowing him a kiss, Mei watched in awe as Kakashi swiftly departed, missing the calls of her guards as they ran down the hall to her side, her appearance having caused them to worry.

“M-Mizukage-sama... are you o-okay?” Chojuro stammered, wielding his sword, ready to strike.

“Mei-sama, what did that bastard do to you? I'll kill him!” Ao blurted in a blind rage.

“No need, boys” Mei grinned, “That bastard is my husband.”

Laughing aloud, Mei slipped behind her bedroom doors, leaving her guards frozen in shock out in the hallway. They would definitely need a few minutes to process her last words judging by their dropped jaws and twitching eyes. She had other plans in mind though. She slipped out of the remains of her dress, discarding it on the floor and laid across her bed.

Lifting her hand, she admired the new tattoo once more, loving the mark they had left upon each other. She was missing him already, and this would not do. She was a newlywed after all, and as such, should be celebrating.

Biting her thumb, smearing the bead of blood across the black band upon her finger, she uttered the magic words. In a poof of smoke, Kakashi appeared before her, grinning beneath that ever present mask of his.

“Honey, I'm home!”  

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 10 | Chapter 12 | AO3 link

“Excuse me, best friend.”

Oops. Well, one can only escape from Alya Césaire’s determination for so long.

“Hi, Alya!” Marinette pastes a wide smile on her face. But she’s not fooling either of them.

“So.” Alya loops her arm through Marinette’s, locking Marinette in place as they head into the school courtyard. Guess there’s no escape from this interrogation. “You’ll talk to Chat Noir but not to your best friend?”

“Huh? How did you –”

“Adrien called me last night. He ran into Chat Noir and asked him to check on you,” Alya says. Marinette bites back a growl. Adrien, that snitch. “But, you know, when your bestie gets there, you’re just too distraught to talk to her.”

“I…don’t know. I guess because you were there, but Chat wasn’t, so it was easier to talk to him about it. And after all the times he’s visited –”

“Wait. Hold the fuck up. Excuse me?” Alya skids to a halt. Marinette just grins sheepishly. Oops. “Since when has one of Paris’ superheroes been visiting you? Multiple times? And you didn’t even tell me, the Ladyblogger?”

“Because it would’ve ended up all across Paris, Miss Ladyblogger,” Marinette says dryly.

“Excuse me! As if!” Alya says. But she deflates when Marinette raises an eyebrow. “…Okay, yeah. I’ll give you that one. Anyway, Marinette, details. Now.”

Marinette sighs, but there’s no wriggling out of an interrogation with Alya the journalist unless either a) there’s an akuma attack, or b) she’s literally dying on the spot. So, she resigns herself to telling Alya all about her realisation after the group work with Adrien and Lila, her attempts to navigate being Adrien’s friend while dealing with her crush on him, Chat Noir’s occasional visits, and then what had happened last night. By the end of her tale, Alya’s eyes are as wide as golf balls.

“This is major!” she says. “Why didn’t you call me for all this Adrien stuff? I mean, sure, I love that you got to use a superhero as a diary, but I’m your best friend!”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette says. “I guess…well, after all the effort you put into getting me and Adrien together, I didn’t want to…let you down.”

“Excuse me?” Alya huffs. “Let me down? I was putting all that effort in to make you happy, girl, not because I got off on it or anything. You think I’d have been upset if you’d said you didn’t want to chase after him anymore? I’m with you no matter what, Marinette.”

Marinette smiles down at the ground before directing that smile at Alya. “Thanks, Al. I just…my head’s been a bit of a mess and I wanted to sort it out first, so I knew what I was exploding about.”

“That, I can accept,” Alya says. “But “not wanting to let me down”. Honestly, Mari, if I’ve sat through every single attempt to ask Adrien out and they didn’t let me down, I’m not sure what you think letting me down would involve.”

“True,” Marinette says just as they draw level with Adrien and Nino, who are sitting cross-legged on the ground next to one of the courtyard walls. She and Alya flop down next to them, and while Alya immediately snuggles into Nino’s side, Adrien waits until Marinette nods before he rests his head in her lap. Her stomach does a flip-flop, but she’s not in danger of melting into a puddle, and if Adrien’s choosing to act like everything’s normal between them and he hadn’t learned of her massive crush last night, well, Marinette’s not going to complain one bit.

“I can’t decide whether that’s the cutest or most sickening thing I’ve ever seen,” Alya says, then leans up to kiss Nino. Marinette raises an eyebrow.

“You were saying?” she drawls as she starts to rake her fingers through Adrien’s hair. Adrien makes an odd laugh-cough sound that has Alya narrowing her eyes at him, but that sound quickly morphs into a long purr when Marinette scratches a certain spot behind his ear.

“Did you just purr, dude?” Nino says.

“No!” Adrien bolts upright with pink cheeks. “Nope!”

“Uh huh,” Alya smirks. “Sure you didn’t. Speaking of purring –”

“I’m not sure I like where this is going,” Adrien says.

“– Mari, since you’ve got a new pet superhero,” Alya continues as though Adrien hadn’t spoken, “will we be expecting kittens anytime soon?”

“W-What?” Marinette splutters. For some reason, Adrien also reacts to Alya’s question by flushing a deep red and gaping like a fish. “Alya!”

“What?” Alya grins rather devilishly. “I mean, since you’re not going after Adrien anymore –uh, I mean –”

“It’s okay, I know,” Adrien says. Marinette makes an odd squeaking sound because how does he know that? “Uh – Chat Noir told me that she just wants to be friends. Because I asked if Marinette was okay last night after Glaciator attacked or if she was upset with me. I just wanted to be sure? Sorry if I overstepped…”

“I hate each and every single one of you,” Marinette says, wondering if it’s possible to boil her brain in her skull. “Except Nino. I’m adopting him.”

“If it means I get to live in the bakery, I got no problems with that, dude,” Nino says dreamily.

“I didn’t cross a line, did I?” Alya says, the teasing smile vanishing like smoke. “If I went too far –”

“No. No. It’s fine. I’m fine,” Marinette says. “If Adrien knows and he doesn’t care, tease away. But I’m still adopting Nino.”

“Like hell,” Alya says. “I got him first.”

“You can adopt me if you give me more head scratches?” Adrien says with a pout that might have made Marinette spontaneously combust before today, but now only fills her with pleasant warmth. He knows. He knows about her crush. And he doesn’t hate her! He still wants to be her friend! He’s even lying back down in her lap!

“So long as she gets to put a collar on you,” Alya says with her evil grin back in place. “Maybe she can even custom-make it Chat Noir style.”

“Alya!” Marinette whines, once again carding Adrien’s hair through her fingers as she leans against the cool brick wall behind her.

“What?” Alya says as she pulls out her phone and flicks through her notifications. She grimaces. “Ugh. That annoying Alternative News blogger’s trying to smear me again just because I’m willing to go out and get the footage. You know, instead of pinching off other sites and then whining that the quality’s always shit.”

“Hi, guys!” A beaming Lila bounds over to them. “Mind if I join you?”

Marinette, Adrien, and Nino exchange looks, while Alya’s so invested in her drama that she doesn’t even seem to have noticed Lila’s presence. Lila’s smile fades.

“I’m so, so sorry, Marinette,” she says. “I never meant to hurt you! I’ve never had many friends and I just wanted to tease you like friends do and, well, I guess I forgot that Adrien was right there. Do say you’ll forgive me!”

Marinette wants to say no. She really does. But that’ll only make her look like the bad guy at this point, so she just shrugs. Lila beams and throws herself down next to Marinette and pulls Adrien’s legs into her lap while he closes his eyes. Marinette wonders if she’s imagining the slight stiffness to Adrien when Lila’s got hold of his legs.

“That’s so cute!” Lila says when she realises what Marinette’s doing. She nudges Marinette and sidles even closer so that their arms are touching. Marinette’s about to slide away and cite personal space, but Adrien beats her to it when Lila leans over to try and stroke his hair too.

“No!” He hisses like a cat and curls himself around Marinette, cracking one green eye open to look at Lila. “Only Marinette.”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry!” Lila says. “I shouldn’t have assumed! I just saw how happy you looked, and like I said, we’re very touchy in Italy –” Before she can finish her self-deprecating apology, she jumps up. “Never mind! See you in class, guys!”

“Is it just me, or does she make it all about her when she’s apologising?” Alya’s finally detached herself from her phone, just in time to catch the tail end of the drama.

“You noticed it too, babe?” Nino says. “Felt like she was trying to make Marinette feel bad.”

“I just don’t get her,” Marinette says. “She’s nice enough but…am I the only one feeling like there’s more to her than she lets on?”

“Definitely not.” Adrien pushes himself up and stretches with a groan. His shirt rides up and exposes a sliver of belly and even though Marinette’s trying to focus on being his friend rather than eating his face, she can’t help but look away with flaming cheeks. “She could just be scared of opening up. Or there could be more, because I don’t think last night was an accident. But I don’t think we can judge her until we know more about her.”

The four of them sit in silence for another minute or so, until Alya and Nino start to once again lean in closer.

“Okay, that’s our cue,” Adrien says. He jumps to his feet and offers Marinette his hand to help her up. “Wanna go for a walk and give them some alone time?”

“Yeah, go with him, Mari,” Alya says. “Both of you can go far away and get bent.”

Marinette sticks her tongue out at Alya, then follows Adrien just in time to avoid seeing the kiss that she knows is happening. The two of them escape to the courtyard’s staircase and huddle together on one of the steps, leaving enough room for people to get around them when heading up or down, and the feeling of Adrien’s arm pressed against her is probably going to make her spontaneously combust on the spot. But at the same time, why is there this tiny, nagging feeling that she’s somehow betraying Chat Noir by drinking in the physical contact with Adrien?

“Hey…sorry about yesterday.” Adrien finally shatters the silence that’s surrounding them like a bubble to keep out the chatter of the other students.

“Why are you sorry?” Marinette says. “Lila’s the one who ruined it, not you. I’m just glad to know you don’t hate me for my c-crush.” She gulps around the lump in her throat because there, she’s finally dropped the c-word to his face, and she ends up wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans.

“Wait, what?” Adrien says. “No way I’d hate you for the way you feel! I’m just glad to know why you were always so weird around me. Look…do you want to hang out this weekend? For real, since last night got interrupted? I’ve got a photoshoot on Saturday but I’m free on Sunday.”

“What if your father doesn’t let you?” Marinette says. “It must’ve been a pain to get out last night.”

“I’ll sneak out if I have to,” Adrien says immediately. “A certain friend told me that I need to stop walking on eggshells just to avoid upsetting my father because I’ve been worried about him since he became the Collector. My friend made me see that my freedom is worth more than letting my father dictate everything just because I’m worried that I’ll upset him. Part of it is keeping my head down so things don’t get worse but…that’s a reason and not an excuse, and just because I ignore what’s there won’t make it go away.”

“Your friend sounds wise,” Marinette says.

“He can be,” Adrien says with another little smirk that leaves Marinette feeling as though there’s an inside joke she’s missing. “When he’s not being a brat about everything.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were still talking about Chat Noir,” Marinette teases, giggling when Adrien rolls his eyes at her and crosses his arms.

“He can be mature and wise,” Adrien says with an honest to god pout. “But the way he gets to be so free when he’s jumping through Paris is…inspiring. He helped me see that Father’s always going to control my life no matter what I do and that I’ve got good friends who are worth sneaking out for. I guess he helped me realise what I do have rather than what I don’t have.”

“Wow,” Marinette says, at a loss for words. There’s still so much she doesn’t know about her partner and while it’s partly her fault for insisting they not talk to each other about their private lives, she’s also certain that this is the best option for now. She already cares so much about him, so if his civilian identity was someone like, say, Nino or Adrien, she’d probably spend all battle worried sick about him and maybe even slip up in the heat of the moment. “I never knew Chat Noir had that side to him.”

“Not too many people do,” Adrien says. “So…do you want to hang out on Sunday? We don’t even have to go out anywhere if you don’t want to. I…really like your house. It was so cosy and warm when we trained for that gaming tournament.”

Marinette’s cheeks heat up at the fact that Adrien had literally just said to her face that her home is awesome. “I – sure! I’d show you fashion design but of course you know all about that, since you’re a model and all.”

“We’ll think of something. I’m just super happy that you actually like me and want to hang out with me.” Adrien looks like he’s made of pure sunshine, so brilliantly bright that he melts Marinette into goo on the spot. “Hold on…you could come to the photoshoot on Saturday! It’s really boring, so only if you want, but you did design that hat that Father liked and you did just say that you’re into fashion design, so it might be something that interests you.”

“Really?” Marinette tries to process the fact that she’s got an actual invitation to be there with his knowledge instead of awkwardly skulking around to look like she’s not watching. She tries not to wince at how…cringey she was. Tikki would totally scold her for thinking that and say that she’s just a teenage girl making mistakes and figuring things out but…still. “You’d actually want me there?”

“Of course,” Adrien says. “It might be nice to have a friend along. I can text you the details. So long as it doesn’t cause schedule conflict, Nathalie won’t care. I can –”

“Ugh, move!” Chloé shoves past Marinette, despite having plenty of room to climb the stairs, even with Sabrina right behind her. Marinette yelps and would’ve plummeted face-first if not for Adrien rushing to grab her and pull her back.

“Thanks,” Marinette says breathlessly.

“No pawblem,” Adrien grins, and she groans. “I guess I just have cat-like reflexes.”

“Well, at least you know your place, Dupain-Cheng. Beneath me.” Chloé scoffs. Her whole face changes when she turns to Adrien, and she bats her eyelashes and coos, “Hi, Adrikins! When you get tired of hanging out with this baker’s daughter, come and find me, okay?”

“God, she makes me so mad,” Marinette growls once Chloé and Sabrina are gone. “I don’t even know why she still gets to me! It’s so – so old!”

“I’m sorry,” Adrien says. “I should’ve said something. I know I said I’d try and stand up to people but…the thought of telling Chloé off scares me.”

“You’ve done it before,” Marinette says. “Remember when my uncle was akumatised?”

“Yeah. I know. But that’s…different.” Adrien sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “If I push her too hard, she could decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth. And I know I’ve got you and Nino and Alya but…I just…”

“The thought of anyone leaving you is terrifying because it feels like you weren’t good enough?” Marinette says softly. Adrien just grimaces and shrugs, so she holds her hand out and lets him make the move to take it and lace their fingers together. “I get it. I don’t like it, but I do get where you’re coming from. Um…how did you and Chloé even end up friends? And how are you both so different? You’re both rich and…well, you know, you both live with your dads, but you’re so nice and she’s so…”

“It’s…not really my place to say.” Adrien scratches the back of his neck.

“Oh! Then you don’t have to tell me!” Marinette babbles. “Really, I’m just poking my nose in –”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Adrien says with a small laugh. “I can tell you how we ended up friends. I just can’t tell you anything about Chloé’s mother unless she says I can. It’s not for me to say. All I can say is…I only lost my mother recently, so she was around for most of my life.”

“I get that,” Marinette says. All anyone knows is that Chloé’s mother is world-famous fashion critic Audrey Bourgeois – a fact that Chloé loves to parade around when she feels that being the mayor’s daughter isn’t enough of an advantage – but no one knows why Audrey doesn’t live in Paris with her husband and daughter.

“Father was actually found by Audrey Bourgeois when he first started designing. She helped him make a name for himself. And…she was my mother’s friend. That’s why Chloé’s my childhood friend: our parents knew each other since before we were born. And I know she’s not the nicest person but…she was all I had for so long. I don’t want to lose all those years where she was the only friend I was allowed to have because my parents didn’t want me out in the real world.”

“True friends call each other out when they’re wrong,” Marinette says. “Alya always tells me if I mess up. If Chloé hates you because you make her take responsibility for her actions, then she’s not really your friend. Sometimes…the right thing is the hard thing, and you just have to do it, even if that means losing those years of friendship. And I’m not saying that because I don’t like Chloé,” she hastens to add. “Part of why I love Alya so much is because she doesn’t sugar-coat things, so I know I can trust her to help me be a better person.”

“Yeah…” Adrien says.

“It’s not just that Chloé’s not a nice person. I’ve met a few people who weren’t nice but were also good people. She’s a bully, Adrien. She made my life so miserable for four years before now. I didn’t have any friends before Alya because Chloé made sure of that. I’m not telling you this because I want you to stop being her friend. I’m telling you this because you’re the only person she’ll listen to.”

“Well…I’ll try. I just haven’t stood up to anyone since my father was akumatised. I don’t want to make him more upset than usual. I’m still not sure he’s forgiven me for borrowing his book and brooch.”

“Feels like you can’t ever make him happy,” Marinette mutters, then she gasps. “Did I say that out loud? Crap, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to badmouth your dad in front of you –”

“Hey, no, don’t apologise!” Adrien squeezes her hand. “I appreciate knowing that you care. Just don’t say it in front of him, okay?”

“I make no promises,” Marinette says, trying to calm down her racing heart because holy shit, she’d just badmouthed her fashion idol in front of his son! “There’s a quote by Majestia that Alya told me on our first day of school that’s stuck with me: “all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing”. What it actually means is that I can’t seem to keep my big mouth shut when I need to.”

“Well, Ladybug can’t either, but everyone loves her for it,” Adrien says. “Although probably only Ladybug could get away with saying that to Father’s face, so I’d probably not do that unless you were secretly her or something.”

Marinette swallows. Oh, if only Adrien knew.

“Which is partly why I was in love with her, you know?” Adrien says, and that makes Marinette’s breath freeze in her lungs. “She’s just so…strong and independent but she’s also kind and gentle. You can tell she loves Paris and her job and she’s not just doing it because she has to or for the attention. I just love how she cares.”

“O-Oh,” Marinette forces out. “You were in love with her?”

“I still love her,” Adrien says. “I don’t think those feelings will ever fully go away. But I’m trying not to be in love with her anymore, so I can be a good friend without focusing on trying to make out with her – uh, if she ever wants that…you know, if that makes sense?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. That, um…pretty much sums up how I feel about you.”

Adrien smiles and nudges her. “I’m flattered. You’re a great girl, Marinette. Whoever you end up with is gonna be so lucky to have you. So long as they can get through me first.”

“Oh, ha, ha.” Marinette rolls her eyes. “I don’t need you to defend my honour. Chat Noir would probably get in first.”

“He would, wouldn’t he?” Adrien says thoughtfully. Before Marinette can reply to that, the school bell rings, and both she and Adrien reflexively jump to their feet and laugh at the same time.

“Oh – right – we should get to class,” Adrien says.

“Yeah!” Marinette says. “For once, I’m not late!” She falls in step with Adrien and they dash down the stairs to their classroom’s corridor, laughing and weaving around the gaggle of students also swarming inside.

[just-a-spark]

The Before, and The After Part 4

A Knives Out Story

Story Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (18+ to be safe)

Summery: A wealthy classmate of Meg’s becomes close to the family, a little too close to the playboy grandson of Harlan Thrombey. The events leading up to, and following, Harlan Thrombey’s death.

“Lizzie!” Joni’s voice called as the redhead entered the Thrombey Estate.

“Hi Joni.” Elizabeth cooed as she wrapped the woman in a light hug, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Me too, Lizzie. It just doesn’t seem real. I can’t believe he’s gone... how are you doing with everything?”

Elizabeth nodded slightly, sucking in a sharp breath through her open mouth. “I’m... okay. I just wish we had the chance to patch things up before he- I wish I could have one last conversation with him.”

“Honey, don’t we all.” Joni grumbled, finally sparing Phillip a glance, “Good to see you. Is your father coming tonight?”

“Not tonight,” Phillip answered, “He isn’t able to make the trip out two days in a row, but he sends his love. He’s looking forward to seeing you all tomorrow.”

“We are all looking forward to tomorrow-“ Joni started, referring to the will reading, but Meg appeared and quickly wrapped Elizabeth in a hug.

“Lizzie, thank you so much for coming! It’s been such a fucking shit show today.” Meg sighed and tugged her friend away. She looked over her shoulder at Phillip, as if she forgot he was there, “I’m stealing her for a moment.”

“Take all the time you need!” Phillip called as he followed Richard to the kitchen to get a drink.

Meg led Elizabeth into the library and she felt her heart sink. She missed lounging around in Harlan’s comfortable chairs as he edited her writing and gave her advice. She missed his laugh when Elizabeth would say something crass and she’d blush tomato red, remembering herself a moment too late. She missed Harlan’s subtle clues, the way he’d always say “Miss Reynolds, I won’t be giving you anymore help until you do something about that mess of yours. Go upstairs and I’ll meet you back here in two hours.”

Two hours was generous, and nobody, not even Meg, suspected anything odd about the ritual. Sometimes Harlan would send her away several times in a visit, yet nobody ever questions why she had no work to show for her efforts.

Elizabeth pulled herself back to reality. Harlan was gone. That book on the shelf, the one he’d created for her to gush words onto pages in her messy cursive writing, sat on the second shelf from the floor. It taunted Elizabeth, reminding her she’d made a selfish mistake. As Harlan told her, she sold out for the money.

Away from everyone else, Meg pulled out her vape pen, “This is a fucking mess. This Blanc guy is interrogating everyone. Pretty sure his car’s still outside.” She mumbled, then offered the pen to Elizabeth, but she refused. Meg scoffed, “What? Are you too good for this kinda shit now? Your husband wouldn’t approve of it?”

“No... it’s not that...” Elizabeth trailed off, not wanting to talk about her husband.

“I just always imagined you with someone... else. Don’t get me wrong, Phil’s fine. He’s nice, I guess. Just not... your type.” Meg said nicely, and Elizabeth could tell she was holding back her feelings, something the rest of her family wouldn’t have talked around.

Joni would have come out with it: Phil was short, plump around the gut, and not terribly handsome with his thinning hair and mustache. He was almost forty, a good twelve years Elizabeth’s senior. He came from a good, influential family. He was poised to take over his father’s booming law firm and he’d had bad luck in love. A sweet, sweet man who deserved the world found a failing author who needed a safety net.

Elizabeth’s parents were so proud.

Meg waited for Elizabeth to answer, but the redhead stared at the bookshelf, unable to pull her eyes away from that white bound book on the second to bottom shelf, “I’m pregnant.”

“What?” Meg snapped her head back toward Elizabeth, almost dropping her vape, “You’re pregnant? You’ve been married less than two months-”

“I know... I know.” Elizabeth threw her hands up to cover her face, “It was a honeymoon baby. It wasn’t planned. Trust me.”

“Shit Lizzie... you’re in it for the long haul aren’t you?” Meg laughed, but pulled Elizabeth’s arms down, “Do you not want it?”

“Of course I want it, it’s a baby, not a purse. I can’t just get rid of it.” Elizabeth grabbed her stomach protectively, looking down almost fondly, “I just wasn’t prepared for it to happen so soon.”

“Lizzie? Is that you?” Linda’s voice called from the foyer and Elizabeth shushed Meg loudly as Linda Drysdale came swooping into the library. “Lizzie.” She cooed with venomous sweetness, “Thank you guys so much for coming. It means so much to us.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Is there anything we can do?” Elizabeth asked as she grabbed Linda’s hands, feeling her cheeks heat up as she silently prayed Meg would keep her mouth shut.

“No sweetheart, we’re just fine. It’s just nice to see you. I’m sure Dad would have appreciated you being here.” Linda said, but Elizabeth knew she was lying through her teeth. She smiled, but it was full of malice, “I’m sorry things were strained in the end. I never understood what happened between you two. Dad was so upset after Easter dinner.”

Elizabeth nodded, calculating her response slowly, “Your father and I envisioned different things... for me. For my life.” She corrected, lifting her left hand to scratch the back of her neck beneath her hair, “He tutored me, he guided me, but unfortunately I couldn’t live up to the greatness he expected from me.”

“Well,” Linda muttered with a shrug of her shoulders, “Some people find their own success. Some need others to help them get by. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No. I guess not.” Elizabeth straightened a little and grinned confidently, “We all have to make choices to do what’s best for ourselves.”

                                       Two Years Ago- New Years Eve

Harlan raised his champagne glass in front of his knife collection in the library, “To family, to friends, and to a glorious new year!”

Applause erupted around the room as his guests cheered, drinking their own champagne after his lead. Lizzie beamed at the author from his left and he looked to his watch, then motioned for her to approach but her parents rushed to his side first.

“Oh Mr. Thrombey, this party is phenomenal! Thank you so much for the invitation!” Elizabeth’s mom slurred as she tipped a little of her wine out of her glass.

Harlan smiled knowingly, nodding his head a little before addressing the woman, “I’m glad you are enjoying yourself. If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with your daughter for a moment alone... I have some ideas I need to run past her for my next book.”

“You hear that honey, Harlan Thrombey need to speak to our daughter about his new book! Can you believe it?” Her mother drawled and her father just smiled and put his arm around his wife.

“We’ll catch up with you later, sweetheart.” He told Elizabeth and led his wife away to chat with some other guests. Elizabeth was vaguely aware of her father calling to someone named Alan as she turned back to Harlan.

“What can I help you with? Do you want to get out of here? Head to your study to work?”

“No.” Harlan answered, looking at his watch again, “It’s eleven-thirty. If you were to sneak away now, I don’t think the other guests would notice if you weren’t back by midnight.”

Elizabeth grinned, pressing her red painted lips together as she raked her fingers through her scalp to her updo. “Where would I go at midnight, then?”

Harlan looked across the crowd to the entrance of his library, eyes locked onto someone behind Elizabeth, “We’re setting off fireworks on the west lawn away from the trees. If you went to the second floor bedroom, you should have a pretty good view from the balcony.”

Elizabeth swallowed down her feelings and nodded, “That does sound nice. Get away from all this for a little while.”

“I envy you for that.” Harlan gave a little wave to Marta as she approached, clearly uncomfortable in her knee length dress. “Go have a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed Harlan on the cheek, then darted through the mass of party-goers toward the hallway that would lead her to the main house. She slowed down when she noticed a gorgeous man sitting in a chair near the entryway. He seemed to be writing something, occasionally looking up to make sure nobody was watching, but no one seemed to care what he did.

The attendees seemed to think Ransom Drysdale was invisible, but he was the only man his Eliza saw-

“Darling! Have you met Phillip Stevens? His father is the attorney for the Thrombey Estate.” Elizabeth’s mother explained as she grabbed her daughter’s arm and pulled her into the circle. Elizabeth smiled weakly and jutted out her hand to shake Phillip’s, looking over her shoulder in a panic to find Ransom gone from his spot.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. You’re parents have told me a lot about you, as have the Thrombeys.” Phillip explained, noticing her absent expression. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She croaked, seeing her white bound book placed on the second from the bottom shelf. “I’m fine. Just had a bit too much to drink.”

“Oh Honey-”

Phillip gently grabbed her hand and Elizabeth’s head darted up to him, noting that he was much older than her, but looked at her with kind, hopeful eyes. “We could go out and get some air?”

“Uh, maybe, I-” Lizzie stammered, but her father gave a firm nod, staring at her darkly. She swallowed and lowered her head submissively, “Some air would be nice.”

Phillip offered her his arm and lead her toward the foyer. As they moved toward the back door of the house, Lizzie looked up toward the staircase and met Ransom’s eyes, mouthing I’m so sorry as she was led outside for some air.

Ransom swallowed hard, watching as the lawyer’s son swept his girl away from under his nose. He considered finding another woman to pound into the new year, but he’d waited so patiently. He’d endured Thanksgiving and Christmas without her, and he didn’t want his plans to go to waste.

But seeing her led away by Phillip Stevens, a man who’s worth and wealth outshone his own, made Ransom realized she was never his to lose. So he stomped up the staircase to the west bedroom alone.

Lizzie stared up at the snowflakes that fell from the Massachusetts sky. Phillip spoke so sweetly to her, but the fresh air didn’t help her at all. She shivered, not dressed for the snow in her strapless gown.

“Oh.. I’m so sorry. Here.” Phillip pulled off his own jacket and draped it around her shoulders, and she smiled up at him thankfully. He was... nice. Just a little taller than her, enough to look up, but not nearly as tall as- others. He was portly and a mustache was beginning to grow. He looked at Elizabeth with true interest, and perhaps a hint of nervousness, “Is that better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She muttered, already seeing where this was going. “My stomach just isn’t very happy right now. I may need to use the restroom.”

“I’ll walk you there, I almost know my way around.” Phillip teased and Elizabeth just smiled weakly, summoning what little care she could. “Let’s go.”

“I’m fine. Really... You go back to the party. I’ll be there soon. I might be gone for a while, I don’t want you to miss the fireworks.” Elizabeth assured the older man and he nodded, seeming to catch her drift.

Phillip took her hand and kissed it, and she felt her stomach twist in knots, “I’ll see you in a while, then. I’d love to talk to you more.”

“Yes. Later.” Elizabeth promised bleakly, hoping he couldn’t see how dismissive she was being. If he told her parents she’d been rude, she’d find herself berated in the morning when the alcohol wore off and the headaches began.

She scrambled through the doors and darted up the staircase, forgetting she was supposedly drunk and sick. She didn’t care much about what people thought of her, she was late.

Meanwhile, Ransom leaned against the balcony in the west bedroom. His breath turned to smoke as he huffed into the cold night air, but he continued to watch as Harlan’s team set up for the fireworks display.

Ransom didn’t give a shit about the fireworks. He cared about money, booze, sex, and not much else. Seeing as he wouldn’t be getting laid this New Years, he considered popping open the thousand dollar bottle of bubbly he’d placed in ice in the bathroom sink before the party started.

He couldn’t shake the image of his girl with the lawyer’s son. He was wealthy and powerful, heir to his father’s law firm while harboring a glistening reputation of his own in the courts. He was older than Ransom, and a thousand times more significant.

Ransom knew Lizzie didn’t intent on being a trophy wife, but she was struggling after leaving college. The money was running out, and her parents were running out of patience. The idea of their daughter marrying for money and stature wasn’t just accepted by the Reynolds, it was encouraged.

The young Drysdale knew he didn’t fit the bill. Wealth he had, but he didn’t have a job, a plan, and no reputation except for Trust Fund Playboy. Elizabeth wrote that she jokingly suggested him, only to be shot down her father who wanted his daughter to find a more “reputable” husband.

Not that Ransom had any intentions of settling down, especially with Elizabeth.

But her absence was disappointing since he’d actually put in effort for their rendezvous for once. He pushed himself away from the balcony with a loud sigh and left the door open, allowing the room to grow cold as his demeanor. Ransom grabbed the bottle from the sink and unwrapped the Veuve Clicquot ruthlessly, discarding the foil on the floor. He slunk back toward the balcony, standing just inside the door as he grabbed a decorative knife from the bedside table and used it to send the cork flying into the yard and bubbles foaming onto his hand.

Ransom put the bottle to his lips, the alcohol like water in the desert for him as he allowed himself to fall onto the bed. He set the bottle against the pillow beside him and used his Armani shirt to wipe the remnants from his face. He considered going back to the party. There must be some pretty women there looking for a New Years kiss. Or he could stay here, alone, where nobody would yell at him or taunt him or ignore him. Ransom could save himself the trouble and do what everyone wanted him to do anyway: leave.

He picked up the bottle again and took a long swig, looking at the single rose he’d set on the dresser near the drawer. Suddenly the door swung open and Lizzie panted as she shoved it closed behind her, catching her breath before turning to Ransom.

Her worry melted away into a knowing smirk as he pulled the bottle from his mouth, “You didn’t wait for me?”

“Didn’t think you were comin.” He answered gruffly, taking another swig and turning away. “How’s Phillip?”

“He’s nice.” She said bluntly, taking a step closer. Neither made a sound, so her heels were deafening in the room. Finally, she sat on the bed beside Ransom and took the bottle from him, but she didn’t take a drink yet. “He’s not you.”

“He’s husband material.”

“But I love you.”

“I hate when you say that.” Ransom spat, reaching for the bottle, but she raised it to her lips and took three long swallows. He watched her neck as the liquid ran down, imagining instead she was swallowing him, so his anger settled, “We’re fuck buddies, nothing more.”

Lizzie grinned and gave him the bottle back, using her hand to run along his side as he faced her, “I kinda think we’re more than just fuck buddies. I think of us more as an open relationship.” She bartered and he huffed into the alcohol, “Hey. We don’t do labels, but I do love you. I’m allowed to love someone I know I can’t marry, can’t I?”

“I suppose.” He replied, leaning back and placing the bottle on the bed stand beside the knife, “I suppose if we aren’t labeling it, and I can do whatever I want, and fuck whoever I want and love whoever I want- I guess I love you too, Eliza.”

She shook her head a little, slowly lowering herself onto him as she dug her fingers into his hair. He heard loud counting down from the floor below, indicating it was almost midnight. Ransom reached up and ran his thumb along her cheek, studying her fancy hair and painted lips and imagining all the time it would take for her to look presentable enough to go downstairs.

“Ten... Nine... Eight...”

Eliza nuzzled her nose against his, and Ransom breathed her in, as if she was the only thing giving him air. She whispered, “All we have is tonight, Hugh.”

“Two...One... Happy New Year!”

Ransom pulled her down to him and kissed her sweetly, and for a brief moment, he considered wedding the redhead, if only to keep her in his bed forever.

[markleesthighs]

Black Mamba | Chapter 6

Pairings: Reader x Mark Lee, Reader x Hendery, Reader x Jaehyun, feat. ot21

Genre: NCT mafia!au, angst, fluff, light smut (suggestive), comical

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of cheating and death 

Words: 2.48k

【 ❶ ❷ ❸ ❹ ❺ ➅ ❼】

Chapter 6 - Lost

You woke up with your vision being very blurry, you woke up expecting to be in a room where you are tied up or bruised up lying on the cold floor. But you were in a bed with luscious and comfy pillows and comforters. You were alone in bed and confused about where you were. You were dressed in silk pajamas and had no idea where your weapons went. (You always carried them with you) You felt very unsafe. A butler came in startling you.

“Ah, you're up madam, please get dressed and have breakfast in the dining room, which is down the staircase to your right.”

You awkwardly got up from the bed as he left your room. You opened the closet to see a surprising amount of clothes that you would personally wear, it was almost an exact replica of the closet in your room. You put on a Gucci leather jacket, ripped black jeans at the knee and a white tank underneath. You walked downstairs with your silk slippers and noticed seven other guys sitting down at the table. They looked as if they had been expecting you. You quietly walked over and sat across from who you assumed was the leader. You didn’t eat anything yet, feeling that you had to wait for someone to tell you something before you could eat or even breathe.

“Y/n, so lovely for you to join us, please eat some breakfast, then we will talk.”

Why were they so nice? You took a few slices of watermelon, bacon, and waffles and slowly ate in silence as the rest of the guys kept talking. You were finished and walked over to the sink to put the dishes as you were about to wash them one of the tall guys grabbed the plate from your hands and spoke to you.

“I’ll clean them for you, you go sit down on the couch.”

You walked and sat on the couch as the guys kept talking at the dining room table. You looked around at the decor around you. The house had very modern decor that made it look elegant, there were numerous awards on the walls and expensive chandlers hanging from the ceiling. It is clear that he is a successful mafia, most likely one of the best in the area. The one who you presumed was the leader, walked over to you and sat across from you in a chair.

“Alright, I’m going to make this short and simple for you. Mark has something he owes us, but we have something he needs, so you are technically being held hostage for a while.”

“Is anything happening to Mark?”

“If he doesn’t bring what he needs, he will.”

“Do I get to at least to get to know your names? If I’m going to be here a while?”

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry for being rude, I’m Jackson. That tall one over there is Yugyeom and the one taking notes and calls is Jaebum, but you can call him JB. The one drinking soup is Mark, the one eating bacon is Jinyoung, the one humming to music is Youngjae, and the one that keeps dabbing is BamBam. For the time being, make yourself at home, walk around, we do have eyes on you everywhere.”

They were not joking about that you walked to go to the bathroom and there were guards at practically every entrance, every hallway had multiple hidden cameras, and the doors could only be unlocked by the members of staff. You had bodyguards following you everywhere except for the bathroom and your bedroom. Balcony doors and windows also were locked, so it would be impossible to find it. Quickly the day passed, you had lunch and got to know all of the boys. It was around 6:00 and you had time. You found yourself wander into a bedroom and immediately knew whose it was.

There were almost all Fendi clothes in his closet, he had a huge Chinese character “wang” hanging up on the wall. You walked and saw pictures on his dresser. Most of them were his members, other friends, and you tried to look for a picture of his family, but you later found more pictures on the bedside table. You walked over and found a picture of your mom??? Another one was your dad?? You saw on the other table it was a picture of you, when you were about five, picking flowers. Jackson was your brother, who you have not seen in 18 years. You soon heard the cocking of the gun, and you knew it was Jackson.

“Put that picture down.”

You put it down and looked at him and said

“I’m your sister.”

“Nice one, she died about 5 years ago, so don’t lie to me.”

“Jackson please, how can I prove it to you.”

“Come.”

You followed him into what looked to be an interrogation room, and he sat you down and held a book that looked old, since all of the pages were almost yellow, and the pages looked crinkled. You also had gotten tied down, to ensure that you wouldn’t take this chance to escape since all members were present.

“Once I say the spell if you are indeed my sister, it will give me the proper response, if not, you might pass out for a couple of hours, are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Yes.”

You had never been more certain of anything else in your life.

“I call to summon the Wang family eye

From the far lands and dark sky

Reveal to me what another can’t see

Open the eyes and be free

Those eyes once filled with tears they bled

Show me the flame show me the red

If not they shall be filled with black and flood

Now show me the eyes only passed on by blood!”

You felt your eyes glow a red and you were levitating leaning towards Jackson who appeared to look like he was crying. The chair delicately floated back down, and Jackson ran to hug you.

“Um, I’m still tied up…”

“Oh, right.”

Jackson untied you and held you tight, and you felt that you couldn’t breathe. You felt his tears rolling down his cheeks.

“y-y/n, I missed you s-s-so much.”

The rest of the group was crying, looking at both of you.

“Is this where you had been the whole time?”

“Y-yeah”

You realized that this was your old house. Jackson had renovated it, making it more modern. But the hallways and rooms were mostly the same. You then realized that your dad’s company was a mafia gang, and Jackson had been running this ever since. But soon after you heard a door burst open and a few gunshots had been fired.

“Shit. Looks like your boyfriend is here.”

Jackson got up along with the other boys out the door.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mark and his little posse.”

“Where is she”

Jackson gestured you to step forward and held you next to him. Mark stepped out to try and grab you, but Jackson stopped him.

“No, no, no, not until you give us what we asked for Mark.”

“Here”

he slid a suitcase over to Jackson, and he opened it filled with what looked like over ₩11,795,700,000 in cash.

“You know what else you owe us. We want our drug dealing hotspots back.”

“You know we fought for those fair and square, it's not our fault your men can’t defend well.”

“Don’t test me Lee, or she will suffer.”

Jackson held a gun to your head as your eyes filled with tears and they started to roll down your cheek. Was he really going to kill his sister?

“Let her go Jackson.”

“Not until you give us back those hotspots.”

“We are not giving those back.”

They were at a standoff, and there was tension in the air, you prepared yourself to duck or hear a gunshot. Mark stared at you can give a signal to duck as you saw from behind Mark Johnny shoot Jackson in the side of his arm as he fell. Soon all the gunshot went crazy. Mark went after Jackson as the rest of his group started to attack GOT7. Punches, guns, and knives were being thrown everywhere. You heard Jackson and Mark yelling as you grabbed a gun dropped on the floor and ran to go find both of them. 

They were in Jackson’s bedroom. You ran in and saw them throwing each other all over the place. It was a heartbreaking sight. Seeing your boyfriend and your brother fight. You couldn’t bear to see it. Jackson and Mark punching each other and throwing each other into the wall. It made you feel light-headed to see them fight, and you started to cry really hard. You felt your body go weak and felt lightheaded. You soon found yourself collapsing by the doorway with your name being screamed as your vision went blurry.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You saw someone running towards you as he picked you up and you wrapped your arms around his neck as you noticed it was Jaehyun carrying you in a rush. He looked at you in worry as you took one of your hand as held his cheek you smiled lightly. He looked at you and smiled as your vision went black again.

You woke up in a different bed that wasn’t yours…or Mark’s. You looked around and could not figure it out. That was until you saw Jaehyun with only a towel and you looked away blushing and playing with your necklace.

“Y/n are you okay? I put some painkillers and water next to you in case.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Your head didn’t hurt, but you drank some water. You also noticed you were dressed in just your underwear and a big shirt, which you assumed was Jaehyun’s.

“You can change if you want, I’d understand since Mark would get jealous or something.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just a shirt.”

You just looked at Jaehyun in silence as he went to go change in the bathroom. You decided to walk out when you saw Mark and a/n talking in the living room. A/n seemed to me cleaning Mark’s wounds and putting ice on his bruises.

“Mark, I’m so sorry for the way I behaved at the ball, I know you still love me.”

You saw Mark smile and kiss her cheek.

“Always”

“Is y/n okay?”

“Yeah she was fine, just overacted a little bit. It was a little annoying.”

So kissing me and telling me you loved me was annoying? Ridiculous. You immediately ran to the balcony of Jaehyun’s room and ripped off the necklace he gave you and threw it into the abyss of the garden. You started to cry and lean on the balcony railing as Jaehyun noticed and ran up to you.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“M-mark, n-n-never loved me, did he?”

Jaehyun looked at you with sad and sympathetic eyes.

“Do you want to an honest answer, y/n?”

“Yes”

“He did love you in the beginning, wouldn’t stop talking about you. But when it was nearing your anniversary, he complained about you more. He constantly sad you were annoying, treating him like a baby. He wanted you because he knew you wanted him. But when he noticed you got friendly with the rest of us, he called you a slut and an attention whore. I didn’t stay after he mentioned that, but I can say that he most likely said worse afterward. He said he can get anyone he wanted and he knew how desperate you were for him, which is why he went after you I guess, to ensure that you still wanted him. He tried everything to make sure you only thought of him, meaning he would get in the way of any chance for you to move on. He was selfish, I’m sorry for telling you this.”

“…”

“y/n?”

“Thank you. For telling me.”

You leaned on Jaehyun’s warm shoulder as you silently cried as he rubbed your back and played with your hair.

“One second, Jaehyun”

You left his arms as you immediately walked down to see Mark and a/n still talking. You coughed as Mark noticed and looked at you in Jaehyun’s shirt which was a dress on you. He grabbed your arm and asked to talk to you privately as you both walked into a hallway.

“Why is this on you?”

“Why do you care?”

“Give me an answer, y/n.”

“Jaehyun gave it to me. What’s it to you?”

“You’re mine, not someone else’s.”

“No. I am not.”

“What?”

“I’m not your property, you do not ‘own’ me, I am my own person, and I get to choose what to do with my life.”

“I just killed a man for you, the one who was holding you hostage? Is that not enough for you?”

“You killed…Jackson?”

“Yeah? Who else?”

You immediately started to break down and punch Mark, where he was bruised by your brother.

“Ow. OW! Y/n!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!!”

“YOU KILLED MY BROTHER YOU ASSHOLE!!” “HE DESERVED TO BE KILLED, HE HAS BEEN OUR BIGGEST COMPETITION ALL YEAR!”

“THAT’S ALL YOU CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING POWER, YOU DON’T EVEN CARE ABOUT HOW MUCH THIS HURTS ME RIGHT NOW! JACKSON WAS MY ONLY FAMILY LEFT, AND YOU LEFT HIM TO DIE BEFORE ASKING HIME ANYTHING. GOD, YOU ARE SUCK A HEARTLESS DICK MARK!”

You shoved Mark into the wall and walked passed him as you ran to Jaehyun’s room and hugged him with flooding tears. He picked you up and held you while you were still hugging him.

“F-first he breaks my heart, then he kills my brother, officially the worst day, ever.”

“I tried to warn him not to kill him.”

“You knew?”

“I had to do a background check on you before we hired you, I knew you were a connection to GOT7 if we ever needed it, but I guess that’s gone now. I’m so sorry y/n, and I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, Jaehyun. For being the only one who. Cared for me. You cared about who I was as a person, didn’t use me, and made sure I was alright.”

“Of course, I worry about you a lot y/n.”

You let go of Jaehyun as you looked into his eyes and you leaned in to kiss him. It was a soft and sweet kiss with your tears flowing down your cheek.

“I love you y/n, you know that.” “…”

“I will always be here for you.”

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[radianhazbin]

Not all demons have a rainbow in their heart

Authors note: This story is very graphic, and may not be suitable for every reader. Also, this was my first fanfiction, that I’ve ever wrote on Hazbin Hotel, and it was the first fanfic that I’ve wrote since around 2 years. Even I don’t like it that much. But right now, I sadly have no time and/or ideas to write a new one. But soon, I will be writing all over the place again :)

Also also, this story doesn’t stay true to the HH lore to the end. So because of that one little detail, I will say it’s an AU, even if it’s just that one single thing that’s changed.

So, after all of this, I hope you will still enjoy this fanfiction!

---------------------------- 

It was early morning in the Hazbin Hotel. It has been two days after the defeat of Sir Pentious, and since the Radio Demon, Alastor, moved into the Hotel. Charlie woke up to the red sunbeams that shined through the window of her room. She rolled around, and noticed, that Vaggie was still asleep next to her. She gave her a kiss on the cheek, rolled around to the other side of the bed, and slowly stood up. One stretch later, the young princess found herself in the bathroom of the small apartment. After washing her face, and getting ready for the day, she smiled to her reflection in the mirror.

“Maybe today. Hell is a big place after all. Someone will check in eventually.” She said to herself with confidence.

She opened the door to the corridor, looked back one last time, to see her girlfriend, still asleep. Charlie smiled, and silently closed the door behind her. She walked down the small, cranky staircase into the Lobby of the Building. She stepped into the large room, and looked around. Husk was blackout drunk at the bar, and lied unconscious on the counter, with a bottle of cheap booze in his right hand. Angel was asleep on the couch, with one half of his feminine body hanging from the side. And Niffty was… Somewhere. Charlie had no idea where she could be sleeping. Or even if she needed any sleep at all. The only other figure that was missing was the Radio Demon Alastor. But to be honest, the young girl was quite relieved to not see him anywhere.

“Goooood morning darling!” Screamed a voice from behind her. It sounded like an old timey radio. She turned around in an instant, and saw the gigantic grin of the Radio Demon, just inches away from her face. She stepped back before answering with a slightly shaky voice: “Good morning Alastor. How was your sleep?” She asked while turning around again, to open the front door.

“Ohhh, just magnificent! Thank you, young lady!” he jumped in front of her, stopping Charlie in her way, “And how was your rest?” He asked her, while bowing down, to be on eye level with the girl.

“Good, thanks”, she replied, while carefully stepping around him.

She made her way to the front door, while Alastor still tried to talk to her.

“Are you awaiting any guests, my darling? Or will this be another boring day?” he interrogated her.

“You still don’t believe in me, do you?”

“Well, of course not! Once a demon, always a demon!”

Charlie left out a disappointed sigh.

“Not all demons are inherently evil. And I will prove it to you soon enough!” she called out.

“Well that’s what I call passionate! Although I would call it naive too! Maybe even stupid!”

“You can think what you want.” Charlie muttered to herself.

Soon she stood in front of the big entrance to the Hazbin Hotel. She took the silver keys out of her pocket, and unlocked the door. The heavy glass door slowly swung open, and from one moment to the other, a slim and shady creature stood before her. It was around twice as high as Charlie, and wore a long, oak brown coat, that hid almost its entire body. She slowly looked up, flying past his black, shimmering shoes, the long coat that was buttoned up just above his waist, and up to his chest, where she could make out a white shirt beneath the mantle. And finally, she saw his head. A human like face with pale skin. His hair was tousled, and the right half of his face was covered in bandages. He looked down at Charlie.

“You’re the girl from the news.” He said with a very monotone, and deep voice.

“Y-Yes.” Charlie muttered out.

“I heard demons can get.. Rehabilitated in this place. A chance to leave hell.”

“Y-You heard right!” she said enthusiastically.

“Can I check in?”

“O-Of course you can!” she screamed out. Her face, went from scared to happy within seconds.

She quickly stepped around him, and threw her arm around the figure. 

“Husk! Wake up you drunk idiot! We've got a guest!” she screamed across the room, to wake up the drunk demon. 

“Huh? What the fuck?”, he mumbled, with his gritty and rough voice, while slowly lifting his head up from the counter. 

“Hmm, don’t scream like that. Some people are trying to sleep.”, Angel complained while rolling around, turning his face away from the room and into the soft pillow of the couch.

“Well, that’s something new. A customer!”, screamed Alastor out in surprise. 

“He’s a guest.” Charlie corrected him. “Our first guest of many more to come! I’m so happy!” She let go of the man, and danced a quick pirouette in the middle of the room, never losing her grin, that went from ear to ear. 

“I saw your little song in the news, but I assumed you would just play a role. Are you always this disgustingly happy?”, the man asked grim.

“Uhm, yes! I mean,” she hesitated, and played with her fingers, while she tried to think of something to say. “You’re our first guest! I’m just a little nervous.”

With a grunt, the man proceeded to walk to the counter, where Husk was slowly sobering up. 

“Urgh, name?”, the still drunk demon asked.

“Caleb.”, the tall man answered.

“Here. Room 104. Welcome to the…” Husk began to think. Snipping his fingers, to desperately find the name of the hotel he was working at.

“To the Hazbin Hotel!”, Charlie screamed and swung her arms wide open. 

“What’s with the screaming down here?”, a female voice questioned into the lobby. It was Vaggie, who was coming downstairs, while rubbing her right eye.

“Vaggie! You wouldn’t believe it!”, Charlie jumped around her girlfriend, grabbing her by the waist, and pointing with an open hand towards the first guest of the Hazbin Hotel.

“I introduce you to Caleb!” She turned her head and closed the gap between hers and Vaggie’s eyes. “Isn’t this awesome?!” she asked, still overly excited. 

“I guess so.”, Vaggie turned away, and slowly moved towards the big figure. 

“So, Caleb. What brought you to the Hotel?”, she asked while crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Caleb, who didn’t even looked at her yet, replied: “Salvation, I guess. I’m tired of this shit down here. The screaming, the death, the suffering. So I thought that I maybe give it a-”, he turned his head, and stopped in the middle of his sentence, when he saw Vaggie for the first time. “try.”, he finished.

“Is something wrong?”, she curiously asked.

“No. You just-”, a short pause, “reminded me of someone.”

“Really? And who would that be?”, she interrogated him.

“Nobody you would know. I think.”, he said, while undressing his coat, and hanging it onto the dresser.

“Well, maybe we should get to know each other better?”, Charlie proposed, “So Caleb, my name is Charlie, aaaaaand, I run this whole thing. This is my girlfriend Vaggie-”, she pointed at the girl, who still had her arms crossed, and looked at Caleb with an disgusted face, “This is Husk. He’s our bartender and welcomer.”, Charlie lost energy in the last word, when she saw, that Husk was unconscious again. “Anyway! We also have Niffty, who I didn’t find anywhere yet, but is around here somewhere! She’s our housekeeping, so to speak, hehe.”, Charlie let out a nervous laughter. “And this-”, she moved her hand in Alastor’s direction, “Is Alastor!”

“The fucking Radio Demon?!”, Caleb screamed out in fear, “Are you fucking kidding me, girl?!”

“Ohh, don’t worry my big friend! I have nothing evil in mind! I just like to watch Charlie’s dreams getting destroyed and eaten by an vicious demon!”, Alastor screamed out happily.

“Interesting choice of words, Alastor.”, Angel pointed out, while slowly getting up from the couch.

“Uhm, and this is Angel dust he’s our… Uhm-”, Charlie tried to find the right words. “Hotel whore.”, he finished her sentence, “For just a little amount of money, I can make you feel, real good.”, he whispered, while rubbing against Caleb’s shoulder. 

“Uhm, yeah, no. Thank you, kiddo.”, he refused. 

“Your loss.”, Angel said smiling, while going back to his couch.

“So. Are we getting started? And if so, how exactly?”, Caleb questioned Charlie.

“Well.. We can start right now! If you want to.”, she explained

“Great.”, he replied.

Charlie, moved him upstairs, into a small room, where they sat down at a small table. She moved an old, dusty, armchair onto one end of the wooden table, and a clunky wooden chair onto the other. Charlie sat down on the wooden chair, Caleb settled in the armchair. 

“So, why are you in hell?”, Charlie asked.

“I don’t know. I guess because I killed some girls back in the 60’s. You know, drove next to them, at night, offered a lift, then kidnapped them, took them home, killed and ate them.”, he explained.

Charlie cramped up in her seat, still a smile on her face, but visually scared. 

Caleb continued: “I never raped them tho. I’m not that kind of sicko. Just a clean kill. Fine, maybe a little bit of torture here and there, you know? But only on the ones I didn’t like. And then the usual. Cutting them open, sometimes they were still alive at that point!”, he let out a small laughter, “Ahh, but then I would exempt the body, cut out the brain, ate the heart raw, and the rest I kept in my freezer for later. But the heart… Yeah.. You have to eat that raw.”, he drifted away, “That taste of someone who lived sheer moments ago is just… Incredible.”, he proceeded to explain. “But I’m getting off topic. Well, I didn’t really have any use for the bones, so I usually just hid them in the woods. The skin made really good clothing, and the rest was all edible. But then one day… Some bitch ratted me out. She could escape and tell the cops, before I could finish her off. I got cocky and didn’t torture her enough. I mean, I cut out her left eye, and debreasted her.. But the blood loss wasn’t enough. She managed to run away, and tell the cops. And what did I do? Huh. Followed her, and rammed my hatched into her back, right in front of the officer hahaha! Well, he shot me 3 times in the head.”, he finished.

Charlie still scared and cramped up in her chair, slowly calmed down, and sat down normally again. 

“A-Alright… Hehe, uhm…”, she struggled to find her words, “How did you feel, when you commited the murders?”

“I felt alive. I loved it. And I would do it again any time!”

“Oh… Okay. I Didn’t expect that answer, but… We will get there! We will make you a good boy again! Don’t worry! You will be out of here, in no time!”, she assured him with a smile.

The night came quickly. Charlie trained the entire day with Caleb. She tried to give him something else to eat, trained him to be nice to people, and to cook something else than human flesh. But when the night came, and the hotel went to bed, it showed, that maybe, not in every demon is a rainbow in their heart.

The door slowly opened, and what followed where big, clunky steps. Charlie was sleeping tightly, next to her girlfriend, and didn’t notice, the large shadow, that lied itself over the two. The creature stepped around the bed, onto Vaggie’s side.

“You fucking bitch.”, he whispered to himself.

Vaggie slowly opened her eyes, and saw the man standing in front of her.

“Caleb? What’s going on?”, she asked, while rubbing her right eye. 

He didn’t say a word. He instantly jumped down, and pressed a tissue with a substance into her face. She resisted for a few seconds, before falling unconscious. Caleb looked onto the other side of the bed, and saw, that Charlie was still sleeping. He looked down at Vaggie again.

“Now you’ll get, what you fucking deserve.”

he dragged her out of the bed, downstairs, deeper into the basement of the hotel. He tied her up, and threw her on the ground. She woke up just seconds after. 

“Huh? What the fuck? Where am I?!”, she screamed at the man.

“You thought I forgot? You fucking bitch brought me down here!”, he screamed, while kicking into Vaggie’s stomach. She coughed in pain.

“What the fuck are you talking about, asshole?!”, she yelled at him.

“What do you think, woman?!”, he grabbed the bandages on his head, and ripped them right off, revealing three holes in his skull. “You did this to me!”, he accused her.

Then it slowly came back to Vaggie. Why she was down here in hell. She remembered the face. She remembered the pain she felt, when her eye got removed from her skull. When her breasts were ripped off without a warning, and the pain she felt, when the hatched slammed into her back.

“You…”, she whimpered. “You son of a bitch! You’re him! You’re this asshole who killed me!”, she tried to jump up, and tackle him, but without any luck. She only managed to get onto her knees, what Caleb used to kick her right in the face. 

She fell to the ground again, with a bleeding nose, and tears in her eyes. Then she heard the unseathing of knife.

“Get the fuck away from me!”, Vaggie crawled back slowly, but soon hit a damp wall.

“No running away this time, bitch.”, he stated, and shortly after, he jumped down.

He stabbed her belly numerous times, over and over again. Blood was spilling out of every hole in the women's body. She screamed for help, but nobody came. She was going to die in this basement. It was going dark, very dark. She saw the face of Charlie in front of her, smiling, being happy. 

“I love you Charlie.”, she said with her last dying breath, before she closed her eyes. Forever.

Caleb stepped up, and examined his work. Vaggie’s body lied before him. Covered in blood. He bowed down, and dragged the body back into the middle of the room. He untied her arms and legs, and began to cut open her stomach, when he heard a voice from the outside. 

“Vaggie? Where are you? Are you okay?”

It was Charlie. But the man had no time to think of a plan. His clothes were drenched in the blood of the young women too, and before he could really think of anything, the basement door swung open.

“Vaggie? I heard screaming and-”, she abruptly stopped when she walked into the scene of the murder. 

“V-Vaggie?”, she asked out of breath. Tears began to form within her eyes, when she walked towards the body, with shaking legs.

“V-Vaggie? Please, answer?”, she whimpered out. Then she looked at the person beside the body.

“C-Caleb… What have you? Why have you? I can’t… Wha….”, she couldn’t find any words to describe what was going on inside her head. She fell to her knees, and soon, the tears, began to fall. She was crying and sobbing, with a hanging head, while Caleb slowly stood up.

“Well. I guess you were wrong, hehe. Some demons don’t have a Rainbow in their heart. You’re truly pathetic. Thinking this stupid hotel would change anyone. I wasted my entire day, trying to win your trust. Damn, I’m almost as stupid as you are!”, he laughed out loud.

“You didn’t… This isn’t happening…”, Charlie cried.

“Oh, you better believe it. What did you expect? We’re in hell! This relationship wouldn’t have worked anyway. You should thank me!”, he pointed out.

“You son of a bitch.”, she whispered.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, what now?”

“You son of a bitch! I will fucking kill you!!!”, She jumped up, and ran with full speed at the gigantic monster. He readied up his knife, trusting, that in her blind anger, she would just ran straight into it. But when she closed in, the knife just shattered on her skin. The shards of the blade rained down on the ground, when in the next moment, he felt an unbelievable pain in his face. He flew across the room, and slammed against the rear wall. Caleb shook his head, wondering what just happened. Then he turned around and saw Charlie running towards him. She jumped on top of him, and punched him in the face, over and over and over again, until his head resembled nothing more than a mashed potato. 

Charlie let her head sink down again. She looked at her hand, which was dripping with the blood of the murderer of her girlfriend. 

“You son of a bitch.”, she whispered to his body.

She slowly got up, turned around and carefully walked towards Vaggie’s body. 

“V-Vaggie?”

No reaction.

“It’s me, Charlie. We can go back to sleep now.”, she whimpered under tears, but still trying to set up a smile.

“Come on, wake up. We can even have some fun if you want to.”

Charlie stood next to the open body of her girlfriend. She kneeled down, and lifted her head up from the ground and rested it on her thighs. Charlie slowly stroke through the hair of her lost love. 

“I love you, Vaggie.”, she cried, “I’m sorry. It was my fault.”, she said, while her tears fell down to Vaggie’s face, rolled down her cheeks, and dripped off into the puddle of blood that had collected on the ground.

She failed. She was wrong. Because,

Not all demons, have a Rainbow in their Heart.

---------------------------------

So, now I want to say thanks to @nightsoulvixen for hosting Varlie week! I enjoyed it quite a bit, and hope, that something like this will be hosted again in the near future! :)

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

Moonlight Chapter 18: Romanian Holiday

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 18/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Seventeen+

Chapter Nineteen+ >>

It was Monday morning before Severus finally arrived at the Merry Cemetery in Săpânța, spinning into sight alongside a stout Frenchman and his sharp-featured wife. Severus’s stomach lurched as he landed, and his entire body ached from the Cruciatus that the Dark Lord had cursed him with two nights earlier. It might have been wiser to have stayed at Hogwarts for another day before traveling but he did not care to put himself in Albus’s sight line longer than necessary. Sunday’s dressing down over the Potter fiasco was as much as he wished to endure.

“You came!” Miranda said, her smile bright as the morning sun that was beating down on him.

“I said that I would,” he replied tersely, muscles tensing as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her warm lips against his. They were enticing, and tasted pleasantly of coffee and cream, but he could feel the French witch’s curious eyes watching, ruining the pleasure that he would usually have taken in such a gesture. Thankfully, Miranda kept her greeting short, releasing him and putting a respectable distance between them.

“I know you did. But I thought you might chicken out in the end. You kept putting me off.”

“There was nothing to be done about the demands on my attention,” he said defensively. “Perhaps I have been spending so much time around you that your bad habits are beginning to affect me. Aren’t you the one who is constantly tardy?”

“I guess I am,” she allowed. “Well, you’re here now, that’s the important thing.” She grabbed his hand and started pulling him along, pointing at the garishly painted grave markers. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

His stomach was still reeling from the covert French port-key trip—why Miranda had connections to an illegal international port-key he had decided not to ask—and a headache was beginning to bloom between his eyes.

“No,” he answered, his hand limp in her tight grip. He felt completely disoriented; the sun was too high in the sky, the air smelled like fecund earth instead of like the sea, and a riot of blues, reds, and greens assaulted his eyes. His corner of Hogwarts was a sober gray and black, predictable and constant. This place hummed with a promise of the unexpected, and Severus knew that at any moment the Mark on his arm or the mirror in his pocket would demand his attention, ending this ill-advised venture before it even began.

She stopped in front of one of the markers and mercifully dropped his hand.

“Mental note, no hand holding,” she said under her breath before explaining, “All of these were painted by one man, his pet project. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Severus studied the image of a young man in old-fashioned dress riding a bicycle. The somewhat amateurish portrait was bordered by doves, poppies, and that bright blue that was the theme throughout the strange graveyard.

“If by beautiful, you mean garishly morbid,” he commented.

“That too. I thought you’d like them. The artist even wrote a little verse about how each person died. This fellow met with a knife, if you can believe it.”

“Charming.”

“When I get back to Edgewood, I’m going to try to talk Papa into doing this in our family plot.”

“Somehow that does not surprise me.”

“Mine will say something like, ‘Here lies Miranda, she was cut in two by a werewolf’s bite. Pray for her soul, lest she gnash her teeth with those who’ll never see the light.”

“That is a terrible rhyme.”

“How nice of you to say so. Yours will say ‘Here lies Severus, he died an ass. Now kindly take your tears off his plot of grass.’”

A smile tugged at his lips in spite of all of his worries. “Fitting. Although I fail to see how I will come to be buried in your family’s graveyard.”

“No, of course not,” she said quickly. “I’m sure English earth will be the final place for you.”

“Obviously.”

“Listen, maybe this was a bad idea. If you’d feel more comfortable back home, you can just take the port-key back. I’ll understand.”

Why on earth had she said that? He finally looked at her and, while she was still smiling faintly, there was a tension around her lips and the brightness of her eyes had clouded over.

“I am here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but I get the feeling you’d rather not be. I don’t understand it myself, but I do know that not everyone likes to travel. My mother and my brother Finn hate it. I just wanted you to have a chance to relax, and if this isn’t the right place for you to do that, then maybe you’d better go somewhere else where you can.”

He let his eyes wander back to the exotic grave marker. It was true that this vacation of his was an unnecessary risk. While he was not a coward, his life currently involved so much risk, that taking on more seemed like the highest form of idiocy. He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d agreed to come in the first place. Was a petulant act of independence or the pleasure of Miranda’s company really worth it? It made far more sense for him to turn around and go back the way he had come.

Just as he was about to concede her point, a group of plants growing out of the unfortunate bicyclist’s resting place caught his eye. They were shy things, struggling up amid the otherwise neatly kept rows of graves. He wondered why the caretaker had let them be, they were so gangly. But their hairy leaves and sweet, purple flowers were reaching up to the sun, determined to live in spite of their deathly surroundings.

“Lamium maculatum,” he murmured, as though greeting an old friend. Pomona had some growing in the staff greenhouse, and it had been one of the keys to unlocking the anti-venom that had saved Arthur’s life.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Severus’s stomach had finally settled and, while his headache had not disappeared, it hadn’t grown any worse either. He took Miranda’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, taking his decision.

“{It seems a waste not to stay after I have spent so much time learning the language,}” he remarked.

The lines of tension around her lips softened into a real smile, and the light in her eyes came out from behind the clouds. Although he called himself a fool for thinking it, in that moment he felt that all of the uncertainty and discomfort was worth it if it pleased her so.  

“{I agree. What would you like to see first?}”

******

Miranda stretched luxuriously and propped herself up on her elbow in order to study her sleeping companion more closely. It was unusual for her to wake before Severus and, when she did, she liked to take advantage of the opportunity to observe him without his practiced reserve in the way. In sleep, the marks of care and displeasure that marred his countenance were missing. She wouldn’t say that he looked exactly innocent, but he looked striking, and really rather handsome.

She didn’t have much time to admire him this morning, though. He didn’t know it yet, but they were due at Vasile Ursu’s within the hour, and it was time to wake him and break the news. Yesterday had been such a lark, between showing him the sights of Săpânța, and exploring the natural treasures of the Rodna mountains where she’d pitched her tent, that she hadn’t found the time to mention this other project. She laid a finger between his eyes and started tracing his nose lightly, suppressing a laugh when his nose started twitching. After a moment of this, his hand snapped up, catching hers in its grip.

“And what torture do you have planned for me this morning?” he rumbled without opening his eyes.

“Me torture you? I should be the one complaining. I think I was very indulgent to let you drag me around all afternoon and evening looking at weeds and wildflowers.”

“It was research.”

“You’re on vacation.”

“You said you wanted me to relax. Research is how I relax.”

“I’m glad to hear that, because I have a job for you.”

He opened one eye and arched an eyebrow at her. “Et tu, Brute? I had thought that you were the one person in the world who wanted to have me around simply for the pleasure of my company. Now I find you only wish to use me.”

“I like you for many reasons, Severus, and you know it. Besides, I thought it might amuse you to help a damsel in distress.”

He let out a bark of laughter and nipped her wrist. “You are the furthest thing from a damsel in distress that I’ve ever met, and I shudder to think what you might require my assistance to accomplish. I must insist on tea before I hear whatever your mad idea is.”

“{You are late, Doamnă Rose,}” Vasile said when she and Severus arrived on his doorstep an hour later. But he smiled fondly at her and kissed her cheeks. “{I was beginning to give up hope.}”

“{You should know that I’m usually late. It’s one of my many flaws, I’m afraid,}” Miranda replied, returning his embrace. “{And Severus wouldn’t go anywhere this morning until he’d had his tea. English, you know.}” Severus glowered at her and she grinned back at him. “{Vasile, this is Severus Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Severus, Vasile Ursu, the Solomnar of Maramures.}”

The men shook hands briefly, sizing each other up like a pair of fighting occamys.

“{This way, if you please, best not to be loitering in doorways,}” Vasile said, leading them over the rock hewn staircase and into a narrow tunnel. The low ceiling was lit with incandescent stones at regular intervals, and their feet echoed as they descended into the cave.

“{You will have studied with Horace Slughorn, then?}” Vasile asked with the air of a professor examining his student.

“{Yes. And with Nadia Angouleme. I completed my masterwork under her.}”

“{Ah, Nadia.} ‘C'est un songe que d'y penser.’” Vasile’s voice was a dreamy sigh for an instant before he came back to the interrogation. “{Good. Then you know what you are doing. Nadia does not suffer fools. What was your master-potion?}”

“Suspension de l’incrédulité. {Its purpose was to enable the imbiber to master flying spells more easily.}”

“{And you were successful?}”

Miranda’s attention was riveted on Severus. He had never mentioned either this project, or flying spells to her before.

“{Yes,}” Severus answered. “{Although it was a primitive attempt. Too much mercury. Many…undesirable side effects.}”

“{Your most recent project?}”

“{An universal anti-venom.}”

The corridor came to a divide, one path leading downward and the other curving away in a gentle incline. Vasile led them on the upward path, which was brightly lit by a row of torches that ignited as they passed by. Portraits of witches and wizards with narrow, stylized faces snored gently on their shelves, although a few shook themselves awake long enough to observe the new-comers. One dangerous looking fellow even had the audacity to wink at Miranda, but they did not linger long enough for conversation.

“{How did you solve the mistletoe problem?}”

“{Tumeric added at each stage of preparation.}”

“{Nicely done.}”

A rush of fresh air blew past them as their path opened into a domed cavern, and Miranda was surprised to see sunlight streaming in through a skylight cut in the ceiling. She had not thought that they had climbed high enough in the cave to be this close to the surface, but the blue sky was clearly visible, and the breeze felt and smelled too real to be an enchantment. The skylight was placed above a circle of leather cushions and low chairs that were equipped with portable writing desks, parchment, quills, and bottles of ink. The enormous walls were fitted from bottom to top with bookshelves carved directly into the stone, and books of all shapes, sizes, and conditions were crammed in every available nook and cranny. Miranda was a little disappointed that they did not pause in this wonderful room, but passed through it to another chamber.

This chamber also sported high ceilings and skylights, although they were slits rather than true windows. Numerous floating candles flamed to life upon their entrance, reflecting off row upon row of neatly labeled jars, beakers, bowls, cauldrons, and other well-kept equipment. The supplies sat proudly on their fancifully carved wooden shelves, waiting like chessmen to be brought out to play. Across from this bounty was an L-shaped table, one half wood, and one stone; the perfect height for standing while working. Miranda was impressed that the floor near this workspace had a springy give to it, which must be a mercy one’s feet and legs during long hours of brewing.

“{Doamnă Rose has explained why you are here?}” Vasile asked, rolling up the sleeves of his embroidered peasant shirt.

“{Yes,}” Severus replied, quickly removing his frock coat. He hung it on a hook near the door and rolled up his own shirtsleeves, greedily eyeing the contents of the shelves all the while.

“{Then we’d best get started.}”

Vasile waved his hand and a fire started under one end of the stone table, while a small waterfall began flowing under the other side of it. Severus raised and eyebrow and curiously ran his hand along the top of the stone, studying the cauldron-shaped inserts that were carved at regular intervals.

“{One end is made for heating and the other for cooling,}” Vasile explained.

“{The stone must conduct the temperature immediately,}” Severus observed. “{But how do you prevent the cauldrons from cracking?}”

“{They are tempered first. I can show you how when we finish if you would like.}”

“{I would.}”

Jars and bottles began floating from their places and setting themselves expectantly on the wooden table.

“{Three chopping boards,}” Severus muttered as he studied the wooden table more closely.

“{Yes, wood for most things, marble for what must remain cold, salamander leather for what must stay hot,}” Vasile explained quickly as he fished ingredients out of jars and set them on the table. “{Three Rhodiola, two swift eggs, a seven inch piece of young horntail claw. Dice it, please.}”

Severus produced his favorite knife from some pocket and started dicing the claw into perfectly matched pieces as he ordered, “Miranda, take dictation.”

She had expected this, and had already made herself at home in a bearskin covered armchair that had appeared near the work tables. She pulled a large, leather-bound book from her bag and positioned it atop one of the portable writing desks. By the time she had her quills and ink bottles floating beside her, the men were on to the next step, but she wrote quickly in her clear, even hand, and soon she was apace with them. Her mother had insisted that all of the Rose children learn decent penmanship and Severus had once remarked that he preferred to read notes written in Miranda’s handwriting than his own. This admission had pleased her inordinately and, while she had no intention of becoming Severus’s private secretary, she did not mind taking notes for him from time to time.

Although Miranda did not care for making potions herself, she did enjoy watching Severus brew. He was in his element, and his movements were quick and sure. When he was fully engaged in his task, something wonderful happened to his face. It was focused and excited rather than censorious and worn. Sometimes, as he did now, he would tie back his hair, which made him appear younger than he did with it hanging in his face. She thought that it suited him, but she kept this opinion to herself. That black curtain of hair probably served as a convenient shield, hiding his thoughts from the world. And he had so much to hide.

By the end of the day, Miranda’s shoulders ached and her hand was cramped from all the writing. It had been difficult to translate the instructions from Romanian to English as quickly as Vasile spoke. There were several times that she’d had to explain some of Vasile’s colloquialisms to Severus, making all three of them impatient. When Vasile had finally proclaimed that they had completed enough work to be satisfactory, Miranda was more than happy to stretch her legs and explore the bookshelves in the larger cavern while the men tidied the potions room.

Vasile was a stern taskmaster, but he was also an excellent host. When the potions room had been put to bed for the night, he led his guests all the way down to his private quarters. These were nestled in the heart of the cave, cool and quiet. They were well furnished with comfortable chairs, amusing books and games, and ample light for reading. A hearty dinner of sarmale and minciunele was waiting for them, laid out by unseen hands, and Vasile entertained them with more of the fanciful folktales that Miranda found so fascinating. After dinner, the three of them played several rounds of tablă, which Vasile won handily, but he also soothed the blow with an excellent bottle of mastícă.

Severus and Vasile soon dominated the conversation, exchanging stories of nightmare students and commiserating about the difficulties of teaching. It was amusing to listen to them, particularly since Severus could be quite verbose when he wanted to be. At some point, he absently reached over to massage the aches out of her writing hand, and then flicked her hand with some practiced maneuver, which immediately cured the pains in her wrist that had been caused by the day’s work. The pine-scented liqueur and the warmth from the fire encouraged a pleasant sense of well-being that spread through Miranda’s body, and she settled herself cozily in her chair to enjoy the company. Eventually she felt her eyes growing heavy, and she did not realize she had fallen asleep until Severus’s hand on her shoulder startled her awake.

“{My apologies, Doamnă Rose,}” Vasile was saying. “{I should have noted the hour. I will need you again tomorrow, but I believe we will be able to finish our task then.}”

“Are you able to walk, or will I be forced to carry you?” Severus asked in English, a teasing gleam flickering in the depths of his dark eyes.

“Is that an offer?” Miranda replied.

“I suppose. But I will throw you over my shoulder and I doubt you will enjoy it.”

“Promises, promises.” She let him pull her to her feet and gave Vasile a parting embrace. “{Goodnight, Domnul Ursu. We’ll be back in the morning.}”

When the pair of them were out of the cave and walking through the cool, spring night, Miranda turned to Severus and asked, “So, about that flying potion. Did you ever get it to work?”

He smiled mysteriously at her and replied, “Yes and no. Perhaps I might be convinced to show it to you someday.”

“I’m sure I can make it worth your while. I know you’d like to learn how to do some of the smoke magic.”

“That is true. I should think that we will be able to come to an arrangement to our mutual satisfaction.”

*****

On Thursday evening Severus sat in a transfigured armchair in Miranda’s tent, perusing the notes for the Changeover Potion, and feeling mentally and physically sated in a way that he rarely achieved. This potion was a welcome challenge, and the time working with Domnul Ursu had stretched Severus’s mind, giving him a plethora of ideas for his own projects and for his workspaces at Hogwarts. Miranda sat tailor-style on the bed, weaving a length of unicorn hair into a fine net, and it was a pleasure to watch her graceful movements as she worked. A disobedient voice in the back of Severus’s mind was whispering that, if he liked, there was no reason for him to return to Hogwarts the next day. He could stay here in this tent with Miranda, like Merlin in Nimue’s cave. Since he knew that he wouldn’t stay, he felt free to indulge in this fantasy, and the idea of staying with Miranda, either in Romania or in Britain, grew more appealing to him with each passing day.

“Aren’t you glad you came?” Miranda asked smugly as she looped and knotted her net.

“I suppose it would be a lie to say otherwise,” he replied.

“And nothing bad even happened.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that yet. There are a few hours left before I return home, after all. Around you that is enough time for the world to end. Chaos follows ever on your heels.”

“I think that you need a little chaos.” She bent her head over a complicated part of her weaving and added, “If you come back in the summer, we can go to Bucharest and see an opera.”

Several sarcastic quips automatically leapt to Severus’s mind at this suggestion, but he took an effort to refrain from letting them out of his mouth. He ran his fingers over the beautiful lines of potion notes that Miranda had taken for him, admiring their form.

After a moment, he glanced up from the book and said honestly, “I should like that very much.”

There had not been many occasions in Severus’s life where another person had looked at him with such delight as Miranda did now, and he felt his ears heat up with embarrassment at the sentimental emotion that was growing in his chest. He cleared his throat awkwardly and added, “That is, assuming that you do not manage to get yourself killed on these ridiculous quests.”

She laughed lightly and went back to her net. “Oh, it’s just bird catching and flower picking. How hard is that?”

“As I recall, dragon riding is part of the second task.”

“It is, but I’m getting much better at it. By the time June gets here, I’ll be an expert.”

“I still do not understand why this ordeal is being dragged out for so long. Why on earth can’t you retrieve the children now?”

“They aren’t in any immediate danger. And we can’t even get to them until the veil between the worlds is thin enough. That won’t be until October.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I’m not surprised, but that’s how it is.” She smiled slyly at him and turned the subject. “When you see him tomorrow, tell Malfoy that I miss him.”

“I think I shall not mention that to him, if it is all the same to you. When will you be coming back in May?”

“Whenever Rachel’s baby comes. I’m godmother, remember?”

“I remember. I’m surprised you were able to convince Lucius to wait for that.”

“Aaron was the one who convinced him. Actually, I think Aaron convinced Narcissa, who took care of Lucius. I guess she is understanding after all. I assume that the answer is no, but do you want to come to the baptism? There’ll be a little party at the Lees’ afterwards.”

“It is entirely possible that I will be struck by lightening if I set foot inside of a church, but I suppose it is a risk that I would be willing to take.”

“I understand, of course you wouldn’t want to… Wait a minute, did you just agree to come?”

Her head snapped up and Severus chuckled softly at the shocked expression on her face. He so rarely managed to catch Miranda off guard, and he treasured the moments when it happened.

“I am aware that being a godparent is an important honor. And I do find your friends tolerable, surprising as that may seem,” he chided.

She opened and closed her mouth more than once, and that charming blush bloomed on her cheeks. “I should tell you that Arthur and Molly Weasley are going to be there too. Arthur is acting as proxy godfather because Aaron’s brother can’t make it over from the States. I know we’re trying to keep things quiet, so I understand if that changes your mind.”

“That does complicate things slightly.”

“I may have mentioned to Arthur that we were seeing each other, though.”

“Did you?”

“It just popped out, he’s so friendly. But he seemed to understand that it was important to keep it under his hat.”

Severus frowned, mulling this over in his mind. In some ways, he would prefer the world to know that he was capable of holding the interest of a woman like Miranda, and his irritation over her carelessness was tempered by his excellent mood.

“Arthur does know how to keep his mouth shut,” he admitted. “Perhaps better than certain persons in this tent. I will think about it.”

“Speaking of secrets, you’re not supposed to know what I’m doing here. So if Albus, or anyone else asks, I never told you anything.”

“If Albus or anyone else asks, I was never here.”

She set down the net and flexed her fingers, grimacing as though they hurt, and he set the book of notes aside in order to take her hands in his.

“If I can tell that your hands are cold, they must be frozen solid,” he remarked, bringing her chilled fingers to his lips.

Somehow this gesture led to her sitting on his lap, running her hands through his hair. Their kisses were lazy, and while he hadn’t thought he had the energy for another round of that sort of recreation this evening, her delicious sighs were convincing him that he might be persuaded otherwise.

She had just started toying with the buttons on his shirt when she stiffened in his arms and jerked her head away from his, listening intently.

“What is it?” he asked, and she laid a finger over his lips.

With a snap, all of the lights in the tent went out and she tapped on his cheek with her finger:

THERE IS SOMETHING OUTSIDE PUT YOUR SHOES ON

She slid off his lap and he pulled on his shoes while she quickly laced on her boots. He retrieved his wand from the table while she crept to the door, peering out of the glass for and endless string of moments. When she was satisfied, she padded back to him and tapped on his hand:

PRICOLICI 5 OF THEM

He tapped back:

WHAT ARE THOSE

She explained:

PART VAMPIRE PART WEREWOLF PART ZOMBIE THINGS

Merlin, could nothing be simple in this place? He tapped quickly:

HOW CAN THEY SEE YOUR TENT

She replied:

THEY CAN SEE THROUGH ENCHANTMENT THEY ONLY BOTHER YOU IF THEY ARE SENT AFTER YOU

He asked:

WHO SENT THEM

She rolled her eyes and tapped:

WORRY ABOUT THAT LATER FIRST WE HAVE TO KILL THEM

He gave her a disgruntled look and asked:

HOW DO WE DO THAT

Miranda patted his shoulder and went to the trunk at the foot of the bed. After a bit of rummaging, she pulled out a double-headed ax, along with two vials of Strengthening Solution. She tossed one of the vials to Severus, and when they had both drunk, she returned to him and tapped on his cheek:

YOU CAN KILL MOST ANYTHING BY CHOPPING OFF ITS HEAD YOU SET THEM UP AND I WILL KNOCK THEM DOWN ON THREE

By now, his eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness, and he moved towards the door, wand at the ready. He shook his head silently, musing that he had been quite correct—chaos did follow ever on Miranda’s heels. Her hand was on his shoulder, and before he could wonder overlong about whether she, the Dark Lord, or Albus was most likely to be the death of him, she was tapping out:

ONE…TWO…THREE

The door flew open and Severus surged through it into the moonlit clearing. After the dark of the tent, the moonlight was more than sufficient to reveal the hulking figures of two werewolf-like monsters. The beasts froze for an instant, as though startled by the humans’ attack.

Without hesitation, Severus flicked his wand and hissed, “Sectumsempra,” casting rapidly at each of the creatures in turn. They reeled backwards as the curse hit them, wounds exploding and sending bits of pus and fur-covered flesh in all directions.

“Left!” Miranda shouted, and Severus whirled to cast at another charging monster.

His curse hit the mark again and he instinctively ducked, knowing without words that Miranda would come vaulting over him to cleave off the head of the third creature. He allowed himself an instant to admire her form, before shifting to one knee and casting at the fourth attacker. This pricolici had managed to advance closer than the others, and Severus bombarded it with slash after slash of his signature curse, until Miranda appeared beside him, and used his leg as a stair-step. He seamlessly gave her his free hand, helping her up like a dancer, and she neatly decapitated the monster before swinging behind Severus’s back and onto the ground.

This last move had perhaps been unnecessarily showy, as it had given the final pricolici ample time to charge. It caught Miranda up in its hairy arms and threw her like a rag doll across the clearing. Severus cast viciously at the attacker, but his eyes kept involuntarily searching for Miranda, and he found himself knocked to the ground. With a muttered expletive, he blindly cast a bombarding curse and scrambled to his feet, but an instant later the pricolici caught him from behind in a death grip. Severus cast again, and the pair of them were thrown across the clearing, rolling until they came to a halt with Severus on the bottom. With great effort, and the aid of the Stregnthing Solution, he managed to turn himself in the beast’s deadly embrace in order to see where he was casting. He conjured a rope that wrapped itself around the toothy snout, but the enraged beast snapped through the bonds easily. This he followed with another round of Sectumsempra, and pus and flesh poured over him from his victim. The pricolici whimpered like a kicked dog for a moment, but the whimper became a growl, and its snapping jaws descended to rip out Severus’s throat.

Severus gritted his teeth and cast a final curse, fighting the urge to close his eyes against his own impending doom. But when a wet flood of something hit his eyes, he could not resist closing them. The beast collapsed on top of him, and he accepted with finality that Miranda was going to be the death of him after all.

The teeth on his throat never came though and, after a time, he noticed that the clearing was still except for the sound of Miranda’s bell-like laugh. His face was still wet, and when he opened his eyes he discovered that he was pinned beneath the now headless pricolici. Miranda was disentangling him from it the best that she could, hampered by her high spirits and her laughter. Her soiled ax was sitting on the ground next to them, resting from its labors.

When she finally had him free of the corpse, he sat up and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the gore off of his face. She offered him a hand to pull him to his feet, and he rose, recalling their first meeting. Her eyes were astonishingly bright in the moonlight, and he wondered if they had been so that first night, hidden in the shadows of that fatal alley.

“Well done!” she said, her voice ecstatic. “Only next time, don’t get so distracted by what I’m doing. That last one wouldn’t have caught you if you hadn’t been worrying about me.”

“Why am I not surprised that you would criticize me for my chivalrous impulses?”

“Chivalry has no place in a battle. I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I am well aware of your competence. It is one of your most attractive qualities.”

This seemed to please her so much, that she caught his hands and started waltzing around the battleground with him. And he was so giddy from the rush of the fight and the victory, that he went along with her, grinning like a fool. The contours of her face and her body were clearer than he’d ever seen them, and the moonlight bathed the world in brilliant blues and silvers and purples. While they danced, he became aware of the smell of hyacinths, and the perfume was so strong that he marveled that he hadn’t noticed it before. Every nerve of his skin was hyperaware of the tiniest sensation.

“I think that you could swing dance if you wanted to,” Miranda teased.

“Of course I could. It is not a question of ability, it is a question of decorum.”

“Oh, that English decorum.”

She pouted prettily, and her lips drew him in like a magnet. He spun her to him, as he had in front of Shoreditch Church the summer before, and kissed her now as eagerly as he had then. She tasted of elf-made wine and honey, and he felt more delightfully intoxicated than mere alcohol had ever helped him achieve. The perfume of the hyacinths was overtaken by her scent, lavender and sweat from the exertions of the battle. She tugged open the collar of his shirt, and seared his cheek with a line of burning kisses. When she reached his neck, she bit him playfully, laughing against his skin when he growled at her. He ran his hands along the curve of her waist, and then scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder the way he had threatened to do the other evening.

“What happened to your precious decorum?” she yelped in surprise.

“Decorum is doing the proper thing at the proper time, and this is the proper way to carry barbarians to bed,” he replied, heading for the tent.

“Says who?”

“Says your English lover. Do you mean to complain about it?”

“No,” she purred. “No, I don’t think I will.”

They did decide to transfigure one of the chairs into a bath before retiring to bed, but removing pricolici gore turned out to be a much more entertaining chore than it had any right to be.

******

“Severus, are you listening to me?” Lucius demanded on Friday evening, breaking off his long-winded tale to glare at his companion. Severus had joined the Malfoy family for dinner, and the two men were sitting alone in the library so that Lucius could talk about himself.

“Hmmm?” Severus replied, swirling his glass of firewhiskey. “Of course I am. You just said that Cornelius Fudge is the stupidest Minister we’ve ever had.”

“Well, yes, to say the least.” He shot Severus one more suspicious glance, but went on with his pompous story of his own cleverness.

In point of fact, Severus had long since perfected the art of listening with one ear while thinking of something else entirely. Usually this skill was put to use in his meetings with the Dark Lord, enabling him to keep hidden what needed to be hidden while gleaning information and constantly evaluating what his next move should be. At the current moment, he was employing his skill much more agreeably, reliving his Romanian Holiday and dwelling on his magnificent Barbarian. He was somewhat troubled that a band of undead monsters had presumably been sent by her rivals to kill her, but she had promised to speak to Weasley and Albus about the matter. And he had to admit that she could, most certainly, take care of herself.

“And now, about your little tart, Miranda,” Lucius said, finally capturing Severus’s full attention.

A chill of warning crept up Severus’s spine, but he schooled his features and kept his tone indifferent as he asked, “What about her?”

“It is unfortunate that I’ve had to send your little playmate abroad, but I think it would be for the best that you don’t become particularly attached to her. She is quickly becoming more trouble than she is worth.”

“Dallying with a woman does not indicate that a man wishes to spend the rest of his life with her. I’m sure you are well aware of that.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that. I’d hate to think that your mind had been addled by the mud-blood upstart.”

“It would take much more than that to addle my mind,” Severus remarked, covering the tension in his jaw by finishing his firewhiskey.

“Then let us be frank. There is no possible way that Sirius Black is in Romania. I know it, The Dark Lord knows it, and I strongly suspect that you know it, even if your tangled mess of allegiances prevents you from saying so.”

Severus arched an eyebrow and his stomach twisted. “What makes you think that?”

“That is for me to know and you to wonder about,” Lucius said condescendingly. “How long has Miranda been working for Dumbledore?”

“I was not aware that she was. You do understand that I do not spend time with her in order to discuss her work.”

“Very good, I suspected as much.” Lucius refilled both their glasses. “Then she is not in the Order?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“But she is cooperating with them. She’s been working with that Weasley brat at the Dragon Sanctuary in Romania, and she’s involved with some scheme there.”

“Is she?”

Lucius’s eyes were shrewd and calculating as he studied the younger man. “Do you really have no idea what she is up to?”

“I’m afraid not.”

There was a long moment of silence while the men stared each other down. Severus knew that Lucius was no legilimens, but he kept his mind on teaching and the Dark Lord to be safe. He also did not dare risk invading Lucius’s mind, although he dearly wished to do so. What a relief it would be to know what the other man was hiding, but Lucius would notice if Severus attempted a mental search. If Severus wished to keep Miranda, he needed Lucius and the Dark Lord to think that she meant nothing to him. And he found it surprising how much it had come to matter to him that he keep her.

At last Lucius said, “If you have the opportunity, it would behoove you to pry what you can out of her as far as her association with Dumbledore and the rest of those fools goes. The Dark Lord is suspicious of you, as I’m sure you’re well aware. I’ve known you for a long time, Severus, and I respect you. I would like to bring you along with me as I ascend, but I will not let you drag me down. Even for the sake of old times.”

“I understand.”

“To the Dark Lord,” Lucius said, raising his glass.

“To the Dark Lord.”

Severus lifted his glass in time with Lucius and drained it dry. The burn of the alcohol did nothing to warm him, and the dregs sat ashen and bitter on his tongue.

---------------------------

End Notes:

C'est un songe que d'y penser: It is a dream even to think of her. This is a quote from Charles, duc d’Orléans’ (1394-1465) poem “Dieu! qu'il la fait bon regarder” or “God, what a vision she is.”

Suspension de l’incrédulité: Suspension of disbelief. Many thanks to Chiara for helping me research! This phrase was coined by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834). I promise there will be more about this potion later.

Sarmale are sour cabbage rolls stuffed with various fillings. Minciunele is a dessert of friend pastry. Its name means “little lies” in Romanian.

Tablă is something like backgammon. Mastícă is a liqueur made with a resin from the mastic tree, giving it a piney flavor.

Pricolici are monsters from Romanian folklore—because werewolves, vampires, and zombies aren’t scary enough by themselves.

-------------------------

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Seventeen+

Chapter Nineteen+ >>

[parkersharthook]

Could I request some Hevie? Would it be possible to ask for Harriet and CJ to interrogate their brother’s new girlfriend? I love when writers explore Harry’s family relationships and meet the girlfriend/boyfriend scene can be really fun! Have a great day!😋🙂

MEETING THE FAMILY

(Harry Hook x Evie Grimhilde)

Warnings: this got away from me lol, not much some tension

3k+ words

A/n: thank you so much for the request!! sorry Evie and harry aren’t newly dating also I used a Scottish translator, but I tried to make sure it was still understandable lol

“Evie, you’ve been fixing your makeup for forty-five minutes. You look great and it’s gonna be fine.”

Evie huffed leaning closer towards to the mirror, swiping at the top of her lip with a sharpened nail. She eyed the blue haired girl relaxed on her bed through her vanity.

“that’s easy for you to say, you grew up with them.”

“and she’s not Harry’s girlfriend.” Mal pointed out casually as she typed something on her laptop. Evie pursed her lips and glared at her best friend.

“okay so that’s an example of what not to say to help me.” Uma sniggered at Evie’s anxiety-filled response. “plus, I haven’t seen them since the isle.”

“They’ve been here for a year and you still haven’t talked to them?” Mal asked with a raised brow

“No! Me and harry were only sneaking around on the isle so I never met them, and we only started dating again 6 months ago, 3 of which were the summer.”

“They ur gonnae loove ye princess.” Harry smiled as he walked out of the on-suite bathroom, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek.

Evie quickly shooed him away, “I did not spend over an hour on my makeup for you to kiss it away pirate.”

Harry let out a deep chuckle as his phone binged. He pulled it out and smiled at his girlfriend, “They’re haur.”

Evie let out a shaky breath and stood up, wiping her sweaty palms on her skinny jeans. She wasn’t entirely happy with her look but both Uma and mal suggested something casual. Evie had originally protested, wanting to wear one of her signature blue skirts but harry just politely agreed with the other girls and suggested she stay casual, knowing that his sisters may see her as a “princess”. And though Harry loves her for everything she is and doesn’t want her to change, he also really wants his sisters to like Evie. So that means she’s wearing dark blue high waisted jeans, a red velvet crop top, and industrial black boot heels.

She let out another shaky breath, checking herself out in her full-length yet another time. Harry sighed with a fond smile and gently pushed Evie towards the door, grinning at her nervous mumbling. He led her out the door, offering a small wave to his former captain and the purple-haired queen to be. Evie chewed on her bottom lip nervously as they walked down the castle corridor and towards the grand staircase. Evie took small nervous steps as they descended the staircase, knowing that she would be face to face with Harry’s sister the minute they walked out the door.

Evie’s breath picked up as she made out to girls sitting on some stonework right outside the door. Her pulse picked up and her eyes widened as she spun on her heel to head right back to her room. Harry stopped her with his body, placing gentle hands on her arms.

She looked up at him with a down right scared look in her eyes, “Harry I can’t do this.”

“princess, aye ye can. Ah promise ye ‘at they will loove ye.”

“No harry… I can’t. this isn’t like making amends with Gil and Uma. Uma only hated me by association, so that wasn’t my problem and Gil can’t hate a single soul. They were easy, they were a part of my life for so long and I had classes with them and I got to know them. It’s not like that with your sisters. This is your blood, your family. I know that their opinions mean everything to you.” She let out a shaky breath, “This can’t be the reason we break up.”

Harry sighed slightly, his hands rubbing up and down her arms ever so slightly. “Aye princess they ur mah faimly, but sae ur ye. Sae is Gil an’ Uma an’ e’en Jay, Carlos, an’ Mal.” Evie smiled at that, “Faimly isnae jist bluid, faimly is who is by yer side thru thick an’ thin. Their opinion is important but sae is yoors an’ sae ur others. They dinnae decide who ah loove. Ah dae.”

Evie nodded hurriedly and turned back around, gripping Harry’s hand tightly as they walked towards the door. She opened it gently, squinting as the bright sun ambushed her.

CJ squealed slightly as she ran over to hug her older brother. Harriet continued to lean against a wall, acting cool and suave.

“Haye thaur ye wee runt.” Harry smiled as he hugged his sister and spun her around. “Hoo is skale treatin’ ye?”

CJ placed her feet back on the ground and pushed a loose blonde strand behind her ear, “It’s gud. Sophomair year is easy sae far.”

Evie placed her hands behind her back, “How was freshman year?”

CJ sent her a look that had Evie bristling and Harriet smirking. Harry was just clueless. “Fine.” Evie’s lips folded in as she rocked on her heels slightly. Harriet pushed off the wall, flicking some dirt from her fingers. She took a few menacing steps forward, arms crossed and eyes heated with judgment. Her eyes raked up and down Evie’s form, her tongue tracing over her lips slightly.

“Sae yoo’re th’ famoos Evie.”

Evie quickly smiled at the older girl and stuck her hand out, “I know we didn’t really see much of each other on the Isle but it is nice to see you again Harriet.”

Harriet eyed the princess’s hand slightly before quickly grabbing ahold of it, shaking it just a tad too roughly and quickly.

Harry just smiled brightly, clapping his hands together and looping his arms over each shoulder of his sisters. “let’s gou tae lunch.”

The three siblings started walking down the pathway leaving Evie to huff in frustration and strut after them.

CJ had been wanting to try a sandwich place so she took the lead and decided that they were going there.

“Ye ken, it woods be gud tae ask e’er’body if they want tae come haur.”

CJ simply waved him off as she opened the door to the small restaurant. “Harriet owes me a body an’ ah ken Evie won’t min’, reit Evie?”

Evie just smiled, “not at all CJ.” The four took a seat at a small table near a window and began thumbing through the menu.

Evie smiled at the girls, “order whatever, my treat.”

CJ smiled happily and began rattling off all the things she wants to get as Harriet just eyed the girl. Harriet was about to open her mouth and say something snarky, Evie assumed, but Harry’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and cursed lightly under his breath.

“It’s Gil, jist gezz mah a minute.” He excused himself from the table and walked outside just as the waiter came around. Evie’s eyes stayed focused on Harry who was pacing outside the window, phone pressed to his ear. Evie watched as he threw his head back before roughly pushing his phone back into his pocket practically storming back into the restaurant. “Weel Ah hae tae gou, 'at divit Gil is in th' wey o mess up uir project.”

Harriet snorted, “classic Gil.”

Evie’s heart sped up immensely and she looked to Harry with wide eyes, “we can uh… reschedule the lunch if that’s better.”

Harry just waved her off, not sensing the immediate surge anxiety that was beginning to overcome her, “nae tae wurry, ye shoods gi’e tae ken each other while ah deal wi’ th’ divit Gil.”

Harry gave one last smile to the gaggle of girls seated at the table before scurrying off, muttering things about how Gil can’t be trusted with even the simplest of things.

Evie swallowed thickly and looked to the two sisters sitting in the booth across from. Her eyes flitted from the short blonde to the strong brunette, how could she feel this intimidated? She was the daughter of the evil queen for evil’s sake!

“So… Harriet, how is UA treating you?”

Harriet picked at her nails, seemingly uninterested in the question before she eyed the blueberry princess heatedly. “Huvnae started skale yit. but let's nae bortha wi' th' wee gab, we ur haur tae gi’e tae ken each other better arenae we?”

Evie smiled tightly and nodded, breathing out a small breath of relief as the waiter came by and set down a water in front of both her and Harriet and a large milkshake in front of CJ. CJ shrugged, “Evie said she was buyin'.”

Evie giggled slightly, “no worries CJ. Get whatever you want.”

The waiter tapped his pen against the notepad and smiled at the ladies, “What can I get you guys today?”

CJ rattled off her order in a speed so quick Evie would be surprised if the waiter caught it all, but instead of complaining he simply smiled at the younger girl. Harriet ordered next, her meal sounding much simpler.

The waiter looked towards Evie last with an expecting gaze. Evie had been so preoccupied with anxiety that she had forgotten to look at the menu, “could I just have the salad of the day please?”

The waiter smirked and sent her a wink that had her bristling uncomfortably, “would that be all for you beautiful ladies.”

Evie blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously, “yes that’s it. Thank you.” She didn’t breathe properly until he had completely walked away with the menus, only then did she deflate into the booth slightly.

“Wa ur ye flirtin' wi' other men fur when yoo're wi' mah brither?” Harriet accused.

Evie gasped, “I was not flirting!”

“A salad aye?” CJ said completely changing the subject and pulling Evie’s attention to her.

Evie just nodded, “um… yeah I’m not too hungry right now.”

“Tryin' tae lose weecht? daein' one ay those detox teas those princesses fancy haur sae much?”

Evie shook her head looking appalled, “of course not! Those teas are horrible for you, and no I’m not trying to lose weight. I really just wanted a salad.”

Harriet eyed Evie up and down, “Weel it's guid 'at yoo're nae tryin' tae lose weecht coz ye coods afford tae pit oan puckle poonds. harry likes his burds a wee bit thicker.”

Evie pursed her lips and forced herself to calm down and answer politely, “Well thank you for being concerned for my health but I promise you I’m taking care of myself.”

“Och aam sure yoo're takin' caur ay yerself but ur ye takin' caur ay uir brither?” Harriet snarked over her glass of water.

CJ nodded with a mouth full of milkshake, “He can be quite forgetful sometimes. needs someain tae swatch it fur heem.”

“well I do take care of your brother but I’m not your mom so I’m happy to say that I act like a girlfriend more than anything.” Evie said sharply before forcing herself to take another calming breath.

“Keep uir mammy out ay yer gob princess. that'll be th' only time Ah warn ye” Harriet whisper with a deadly glare. The air was tense at the table only for the waiter to break it up by placing their plates down in front of them. He sent Evie another wink, but she didn’t even look up from her salad to thank him.

“I’m sorry.” Evie said softly, “I didn’t mean to offend you.” Another tense pause. Evie ventured forward cautiously, “Harry’s told me a little bit about your mother. She’s sounds wonderful.”

“she was.” Harriet snapped, “Far tay guid fur baith uir faither an' 'at godforsaken islain ye left us oan.”

Evie choked on her salad, “that I left you on? I’m the reason you’re off the isle right now!” Evie was trying her best to stay positive and cordial towards Harry’s sisters, but this was beginning to be a little too much.

Harriet scoffed, “Harry tauld me 'at ye an' heem waur a hin' an' 'en ye left heem fur these stuck up princes.” She folded her arms defiantly, “Hoo lang did it tak' ye tae remin' 'yoor true love' an' gi’e heem aff 'at place?”

Evie winced, “too long.” Evie looked up from her food, “Look I know we messed up. We all did. The VKs, King Ben, Former King Adam, hell all of Auradon messed up but we’re trying to make it right. And yes it did take me longer than preferred to get more kids of that isle, but I won’t let you sit there and say that I simply forgot about your brother and moved on no problem.”

Evie let out a shaky breath before continuing with more strength, “I was the one who wanted to tell everyone. I wanted to meet you from the beginning of our relationship. Harry thought it wouldn’t be a good idea and looking back, he was right. We’d both be dead right now if we told any of our friends or family, so we kept it a secret. Leaving him on that isle was on the hardest things I have ever done, and the worst part was I couldn’t even miss him! I couldn’t tell anyone that we were a thing because we were secret and then Mal went and screwed up again and got us in that entanglement which is a whole other thing to deal with.” Evie huffed out as she pushed her locks from her forehead.

She folded her hands into her lap and softened her voice, “I’m sorry that it took us so long to get you guys off the isle, I really am. But don’t think that I ever stopped loving your brother, because he was and is the only person I’ve ever loved.”

“Whit abit Doug?” CJ who had remained quiet during Evie’s small outbreak spoke up softly.

Evie gave a small humorless laugh, “Doug was a distraction. He was nice and kind and funny and I was new to Auradon so it was overwhelming. He helped me settle in and start my business, so I always be thankful to him for that. But… there never was anything between us. Sure a kiss or two but no sparks.”

“Diz mah brither ken thes?” Harriet asked, a new easiness taking over her persona.

Evie nodded, “yeah he does. Gave Doug a bit of a scare when we first got back together but they’re okay now. Doug even helps him with English assignments from time to time.”

Harriet sighed fiddling with one of her messy braids in what seems to be a nervous fashion, “Weel princess, there's a chance Ah judged ye tay early.” She glanced to her younger sister who was happily munching on her sandwich, “We baith did.”

CJ nodded her head, a small piece of lettuce falling from between her lips. Evie smiled at them, “well thank you for giving me a chance. I really do like your brother and I was hoping to get along with you all as well.”

Harriet smirked slightly, “Ah hink we coods make somethin' wark.”

~.~

The rest of lunch was uneventful, the girls sharing funny stories with a few interjections on the upcoming school year. They reminisced about their time on the isle and grimaced over their parents. Overall it ended up being pretty okay, if you looked past the one rough patch. Evie had hugged both girls goodbye before going up to her dorm room, with what could only be described as a content smile on her face. She opened her door with her key and fell onto her large bed with a sigh.

“I presume it went well?” Mal asked from behind a book

“yeah it actually did.”

“harry stopped by earlier looking for you.”

Evie picked up her head slightly, “do you know where he is now?”

Mal looked over the edge of her book, her black rimmed glasses pushed high on her nose. “Do I look like his personal GPS? This is why we have phones.”

Evie snorted but pulled out her phone nonetheless and typed a quick message to her boyfriend.

Princess: Mal said you were looking for me

Pirate: aye Yeah Ah was seein' if ye waur back frae th' lunch yit.

Princess: I’m back now, are you in your dorm.

Pirate: aye

Princess: I’m coming over

Pirate: Cannae wayte.

Evie rolled off her bed throwing her small purse over her shoulder once again. She turned towards Mal as she walked towards the door, “I’m going to see Harry, don’t need to wait up.”

Mal just sent her a thumbs up as Evie picked up the small bag of leftovers and walked outside her dorm. She made quick work of exiting her dorm and crossing the short path to the boys’ dorm. She pulled out the spare key Harry had given her (shhhh! Don’t tell fairy godmother) and entered the building quietly. She checked to make sure no guards were around before scurrying up the familiar staircase and walking to his dorm.

She knocked lightly on the wood and it was only a second later when the door opened. Evie was immediately greeting with a shirtless grinning Harry, arguably one of her favorite sights. She smiled a little coy smile at him and lifted the brown bag into view, “I brought leftovers.”

Harry’s smile widened as he placed a dramatic hand over his chest, “A lassie efter mah ain heart.”

Evie walked past him with an eye roll, “I thought I already had it.”

“Aye princess ye dae.”

“Hey!” the sharp voice sounded from Gil’s bed and Evie looked over her shoulder to find Uma glaring at them. “the rule is no lovey dovey stuff while other people are here.” Gil just nodded from beside her while munching on some popcorn. The two of them had obviously been watching a movie on Uma’s computer.

Evie lifted a small cardboard box, “what if I offer you some dumplings?”

Uma smiled and motioned for Evie to toss them, “You’re forgiven.”

Evie settled on the bed and began unpacking the bag. Harry eyed her curiously, “Did ye buy me dinnah?”

Evie smiled, patting a spot on the bed next to her for Harry to sit down. He did so willingly. She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before pulling out more food, “It’s to celebrate.”

“Celebrate whit?”

Evie smiled up at him cheerfully, “your sisters loving me.”

Harry rolled his eyes but pulled her close anyways, “Ah tauld ye.”

Taglist: @awkwardfangirl2014 // @givinggoodvibes // @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel

[scripts4dreamers]

Learning to love

 Learning to love pt. 5

Part one, part two, part three, part four, part six, part seven, part eight, The Epilogue

AN: A love story, interrupted.

Characters: Theseus Scamander, Albus Dumbledore, Newt Scamander, Leta Lestrange Pairings: Theseus Scamander x reader, Leta Lestrange x Newt Scamander Prompt: “Can yu pls do a Thesus imagine where him and the reader were friends and dating but then they break up but they get back together?”

Warnings: Mention of Death

Spoilers: Spoilers for Crimes of Grindelwald

Ps. This diverges from canon

————————————

“You can’t keep your eyes off her, can you?” Leta teased as Theseus watched you glide into the entry hall.

Theseus shook his head, “You know I can’t.”

“Scamander,” Travers called, snapping him back to reality, “I want you to keep an eye on Y/L/N for me. I’m not entirely convinced that we can trust her.”

Theseus felt a burst of protective anger and had to force himself to remain calm and neutral. Torquil Travers was obsessed with the apprehension of Grindelwald. He was a man with very little capacity for empathy and a profound disdain for any person, auror or no, who ever displayed any kind of mercy. It was under his orders that Theseus had brought you to the ministry for interrogation all those years ago and, from the stories he’d heard, it seemed as though Travers had given Grimmson free reign. You’d come out of the interrogation seven hours later, white and shaking and you’d refused to tell him what had happened. Now, years later, Theseus could imagine it quite well. He’d worked with Grimmson before and he knew that his methods were bordering on torture. Again, he felt the flames of shame wash over him, but he choked them back.

“It’s all in the blood,” Travers continued, “bad blood will out.”

“She’s been cleared of suspicion multiple times,” Theseus countered, earning himself a sharp look. He met his boss’ gaze for a moment, but then looked to you again, “yes, sir.”

Being in the castle again brought back memories that Theseus had been doing his very best to suppress. At every turn he saw you: smiling, laughing, running from him as he chased after you with snowballs in each hand. Every room brought back memories of stolen kisses, every corner of the grounds, hours that you spent together in the sun. As the party of aurors made their way to the defense against the dark arts classroom, Theseus realized that you had vanished, chasing memories of your own down deserted corridors and he felt his heart pinch with concern. He barely heard the conversation with Dumbledore. He was too busy following the ghost of you down the stone passages in his mind, hanging on to every smile and wishing, more acutely than ever, that he’d appreciated them more when he’d had the chance. Before long, he heard Travers beckoning him out and he turned to leave.

“Theseus,“ Dumbledore called, stopping him dead.

He didn’t wan to turn. He knew what his old teacher was thinking. He could picture the infuriatingly knowing look, the disappointment.

“If Grindelwald calls a rally,” he continued, “don’t try and break it up. Don’t let Travers send you in there.”

Theseus bit down on his jaw. Did Dumbledore really think it was that easy? That he could openly defy his superior officer without consequence? No, a voice in his head whispered, he knows that there will be consequences, he just expects you to do what’s right, despite them. It was what you would do, and Theseus knew it.

“If you ever trusted me-“ Dumbledore started, before Travers cut him off. Theseus turned to leave but Dumbledore stopped him again. “Theseus, you made me a promise once, do you remember?” Theseus stopped, his heart sinking. Of course he remembered, how could he possibly forget? He didn’t answer, but that didn’t seem to deter Dumbledore, “You promised that you wouldn’t let your friendship with Y/N fall apart.”

“I remember,” Theseus said, his voice oddly hoarse.

Dumbledore nodded, “Good. I wish you and Leta every happiness Theseus, I really do, but only if you really love one another. Marriage should be something special and profound, not a way to punish yourselves and one another for your mistakes.”

Theseus was stunned. It felt as though Dumbledore had sucker-punched him in the solar plexus and before he could say anything else, Theseus left. His eyes were stinging and his chest felt painfully tight. He fled down corridors without even thinking, just trying to put distance between himself and Dumbledore. He saw too much, understood too well. Theseus felt as though Dumbledore could see directly into his soul, could see all his flaws and fears, and was disappointed in him for not fighting them harder, for giving in. Because he had, he knew that now. He’d given in to fear and pressure and he’d thrown the best thing that had ever happened to him away without so much as a second thought. For a long time he’d tried to convince himself that he’d made the same decision that anyone would have in his situation, that everyone would have ended their relationship for the sake of their career but, deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. He knew that, had the situation been reversed, you would never have abandoned him. You would have told your family that you loved him and then you would have simply continued to do your job to the best of your ability but then, you’d always been braver than he was.

Theseus ducked into a classroom and stopped. You were sitting at a desk in the front, your desk. How many times had he stood in this doorway and waited for you to finish up class? How many times had he dropped you off with a goodbye kiss on the way to his own lessons? He was sure that the number was too high for him to count. For a moment he couldn’t decide what to do but then you turned and, to his surprise, instead of reacting with shock and anger, you just gave him a sad smile and turned back to the front. Taking that as an invitation, Theseus crept forward and collapsed into the desk next to you, pretending not to notice as you wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks. Being near you, even with this much space between your bodies was still intoxicating. It had been so long that he’d almost forgotten how it felt, how calm and light you made him feel.

“It’s odd isn’t it?” You finally said, “Being back.”

Theseus nodded, “It is.”

“I used to love this old castle,” you continued, “it was the first place that ever really felt like home to me. It was the first place I ever had any friends, it was the first place that made me feel….like me.”

���I know,” Theseus replied gently. You’d told him how much Hogwarts had meant to you many times. He used to love the way your face lit up when you talked about it. The memory made something deep inside of him ache, “you told me.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite meet your eyes, “Of course. I used to tell you everything.”

And then I threw it away, he thought to himself, I threw it away because I was scared of the way other people would see me. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness. He’d been awful and, now he had to live with the agony of wondering what could have been if only he’d been a little braver. If Theseus Scamander were a better man, he would get up and walk out. If he were a better man, he’d find Travers and demand that he send you home and bring someone else along. If he were a better man, he would get down on his knees and apologize, or promise to never force his company on you again. If he were a better man he would tell you that it was him who’d insisted on you coming with them to Paris but, instead, he just sat with you in that empty classroom, basking in the fragile peace and praying that you could both stay there for just a little longer. He wasn’t a better man. He was a man who had spent two years sleepwalking and had finally woken up.

---------------------------

By the time you arrived in Paris, you had no idea what to think. One moment you were on the verge of tears and couldn’t even bear to look at Theseus Scamander, the next it felt like nothing had changed and the breakup had never happened. It was…confusing.

“Hello,” Leta Lestrange greeted, taking a seat beside you on the chaise lounge.

Travers had given you the rest of the evening off once you’d arrived in France, in order to give him and Theseus time to create a game plan for the attack on Grindelwald. It was a cold and rainy night and, honestly you were grateful for the reprieve. The visit to Hogwarts had left you drained and tender and all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and rest.

“Hi,” you replied, with a gentle smile, “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” Leta replied. For a moment there was a tense silence, eventually broken by Leta, “Y/N, I wanted to explain about me and Theseus. I don’t want you to think that either of us ever wanted to hurt you, we just-“

“Leta,” you quickly interrupted, feeling far too fragile for this conversation, “it’s fine. Your relationship has nothing to do with me, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

Leta sat up, a somewhat fevered look on her face, “But that’s the thing, it does have something to do with you. Theseus-“ she continued, “he cares, so much about you. All he talked about for days after we sent out our invitations was whether or not you’d come-“

“Stop,” you interrupted, raising your hand as if to ward Leta off. Her words had sparked something in you, anger that you hadn’t even known you still had, “I’ll come to your wedding, hell I’ll be a bridesmaid if you want but don’t try to convince me that Theseus Scamander cares about me, because he doesn’t.”

Leta’s face softened and her pity riled you up even more, “Y/N, that’s not true, Theseus loves-he loved you.”

You shook your head, “If he’d loved me he would never been able to leave me the way he did,” you explained, “Never.”

“Y/N,”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you told Leta, getting the pain you’d been feeling off of your chest for the first time in years, “Theseus left me alone, weeping at the bottom of a staircase for the crime of being a Y/L/N, of having a criminal brother. He used me for years and then dropped me as soon as I stopped being the convenient choice.” You explained, “So please, don’t insult me. If Theseus ever cared about me, that care vanished long ago.”

------------------------

Theseus stood in the doorway and listened to you as you talked to Leta, feeling his heart shatter all over again. Your voice was as hard as steel, cold and clinical and it cut him deeper than anything else ever had because, well, it was you. Underneath it all he could hear the pain he’d caused, he could see how long it had taken for you to be strong enough to talk to him again and he understood, for the first time, how his behavior must have looked from your perspective.

“He wouldn’t even look at me,” you told Leta, your voice thick with emotion, “that’s how eager he was to get the whole thing over with.” No! Theseus’ heart screamed, no, that wasn’t it at all! You stood and brushed some non-existent crumbs from your skirt, “I’m sorry-I-I need some air.”

You turned and stopped in your tracks your eyes catching his. Theseus opened his mouth to say something, anything but you pressed your lips into a thin line and practically ran past him, disappearing out into the night.

“Go,” Leta commanded, “go, fix it.”

Theseus shot her a brief grateful look and chased you out into the cold, stopping just under the hotel’s awning.

“Y/N,” he called, “Y/N wait.”

“What?” You practically shouted, “What do you want?”

You looked furious, but also beautiful, with the rain pounding down on you under the moonlight. You could’ve cast a charm to keep you dry, he knew it, but you had always loved the rain. You’d once told him that the rain made you feel clean and fresh, like a new start.

Faced with you in the rain, his heart pounding in his chest and his body filled with a powerful longing and sadness, Theseus Scamander floundered. He opened his mouth to talk but, again, no sound came out. You crossed your arms and gave him an impatient look but, when it became obvious that he had nothing to say, you turned and kept walking. The idea of you disappearing into the distance woke something up in him and Theseus, mercifully found something to say.

“Y/N wait, we need to talk,” he said, straining to be heard over the rain.

You stopped again and balled your hands into fists; turning to face Theseus for, what he could tell was, the last time. When you met his eye, Theseus felt a shiver run through him and he swallowed hard.

“About what?” You asked, “What do we need to talk about now?”

“I do care about you, I’ve always cared.” He replied honestly, “I really don’t know how you could ever doubt that, after everything we’ve been through together-“

You let out an incredulous bark of laughter. It was a harsh sound that made him flinch.

“You left me, Theseus,” you interrupted, “you stood there, bold as brass and told me that I was bad for your public image. Does that sound like something you do to someone you care about?” Your eyes bore into his heart like fiery coals and some; small part of him reveled in it, reveled in your passion and your intensity, reveled in you just looking him in the eye again.

“No,” he answered honestly, “no it doesn’t. Y/N I know I hurt you. I know I lost the right to ask anything of you, I know I did but please, please, just let me explain.”

Your bottom lip trembled but he watched you cross your arms over your chest and cling to your anger, shooting him a defiant look. For a moment Theseus was afraid that you were going to refuse but, after a long pause, you nodded sharply.

Theseus felt his body relax and he smiled gently, “I thought I was doing the right thing-“ he said. You opened your mouth to argue but he raised his hands quickly, cutting you off, “but I was wrong. I was being a coward and I’m so-I’m. So. Damn. Sorry.”

For a moment you just looked at him, letting Theseus’ confession hang in the air like thin clouds.

“Is that it?” you finally asked.

“What?”

“Is that it?” you repeated, “Two years and that’s all you can come up with? I already knew that. I knew you were being a coward the second you left. That doesn’t make it alright, that doesn’t excuse what you did.”

“But I-“

“But nothing!” you cried, “But nothing Theseus! You broke my heart and you couldn’t even be honest with me about why you were doing it-“

“Because it was killing me inside! I could barely look at you without feeling like my heart was about to implode in on itself. Every second was absolute torture. Y/N leaving you like that…” he shook his head, “it nearly killed me.”

“Yeah, well it nearly killed me too,” you replied, swallowing hard, “that still doesn’t make it right.”

Theseus looked at you pleadingly, stepping out into the rain. He thought you were going to pull away but you stayed, letting him take hold of your arms.

“I know,” he said quietly, “nothing can excuse what I did. All I can say is that breaking up with you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and it was the biggest mistake of my life. I’m so, so sorry Y/N, I really am. I know I’ve lost the right to ask you for your forgiveness but I can’t go on not having you in my life, even if it means having you yell at me every day, I’ll take what I can get.”

Your bottom lip trembled again and your eyes welled up with tears but you held them back. Whatever anger there had been in your voice, Theseus felt it ebbing away, leaving only sadness in its wake.

“That’s not fair,” you whispered.

You sounded young and vulnerable, like the girl he’d met in that classroom in Hogwarts, the girl who’d taught him what love was without even meaning to.

He nodded, “I know, I’m sorry, you have every right to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you replied, “I could never hate you.”

For the first time in years Theseus felt a flicker of hope in his chest and, instinctively, he pulled you into an embrace. Your body stiffened against his but, seconds later you relaxed and your shoulders started to shake with sobs. He just held you, in the rain, whispering comforting words into your hair until your body stopped shaking.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he whispered, “I’m so, so sorry.”

You looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying and your Y/H/C hair plastered to your head with water. You were so beautiful and it took every once of restraint Theseus had to not kiss you.

“I know,” you replied.

It wasn’t what he wanted. There were still so many things broken between you that he had no idea how to fix, but it was a start and, as he’d said, he’d take whatever he could get.

——————

Tag list: @staradorned, @misunderstood-sinner, @adult-in-progress-mara,@barikawho, @wolfarrowepz, @sanya-gryff, @thedazeinmylife,@theroyalbrownbarbie, @heartbroken-writer, @bluegreyme, @mcuwitch,@colt67chevy, @ofthcrnedrcses,  @wingedrhapsody, @ere-the-sun,@evaksavedmylife, @ptersparkers, @franchisefan14, @zseonlydavinci,@bethanystan, @cafe-sabor-a-chocolate, @j-brielmalfoy, @i-larb-spooderman, @ly–canthrope, @claluni, @ere-the-sun, @stxnesy, @marsbars101, @peter-spider-parker-man, @maggiekelly51, @lilmissperfectlyimperfect, @badgirl411, @@glader-groupa-sub8, @swagaliciouspupper, @mayakblack, @starryrevelations, @itssimpleishipit, @miaowchan17, @nativesebby, @letmebecomeataboo, @ninamaria

[dewitty1]

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Astoria Greengrass, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Ginny Weasley, Original Male Character(s), Oliver Wood, Gawain Robards, Original Female Character(s), Daphne Greengrass Additional Tags: Post-Hogwarts, HP: EWE, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Background Femslash, Past Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s), Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Clubbing, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, University, Community: hd_erised, Getting Together, Draco Malfoy Being an Asshole Summary:

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Excerpt:

The harpist has been replaced by a clarinet player, whose instrument conjures pale blue snowflakes with each note, which float around the room.

 Soon everything’s covered in the fake, glittering snow and the guests laugh as the flakes land on their hair and shoulders.

 Malfoy asks Harry to dance in the fake snowfall. Harry refuses. Malfoy sulks. They have more drinks.

 Harry watches Robards, red-cheeked from the elf-wine, talking animatedly about Quidditch to a witch, whose eyes are frantically looking for a way out of the conversation. 

Malfoy blows kisses to Mrs Nithercott’s nieces and Mrs Nithercott glares at him. It’s fun.

Until Narcissa sidles next to Harry the minute Malfoy is absorbed in a discussion about St Mungo’s funding with someone who Harry thinks may be in the Wizengamot.

‘Enjoying the evening?’ she asks Harry. Flakes shine through her bright hair.

‘I am,’ Harry replies, tensing instantly. Malfoy’s behaved like Harry meeting Narcissa would give away their deal, but it turns out that she doesn’t question Harry as to how Malfoy drinks his tea or about his childhood toys, but chats about his work and the Pu.Fo.P’s various projects. Harry relaxes and even laughs when she relates an amusing anecdote from one of the board meetings.

‘So,’ she says, smile sharp on her face, ‘I was wondering if you and Draco would like to have luncheon with us next weekend.’

Cheerfulness vanishes. Just the idea of stepping foot in the Manor covers Harry in cold sweat. That’s one line he won’t — can’t — cross for his pretend relationship. ‘Forgive me,’ he tells her, ‘but I’d rather not visit the place I was held a prisoner.’

‘I understand,’ she concedes after a pause. ‘Of course, that might be an impediment to your relationship with my son, not willing to visit the home he grew up in.’

Harry thinks he might have made a wrong step somewhere. He feels like he’s dancing on a landmine. ‘It’s early days,’ he says as diplomatically as he can. ‘If Draco and I become serious, then it’s something I’ll have to deal with.’

‘So this isn’t serious?’ she asks. ‘Simply a rebound fling for you, perhaps?’

Fuck. ‘No, I er… I’m very fond of Draco. Not a rebound, no. We’re very close. Really. Awfully in love, if I may be so bold. Head over heels. I er… make him tea in the mornings. One sugar and a splash of milk.’

Harry’s vaguely aware he’s fucked up. 

Narcissa Malfoy smiles as if Harry has confirmed something she suspected. ‘It was lovely talking to you.’

A second after she leaves, Malfoy arrives and interrogates him. He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. ‘Fuck’s sake, Potter, how could you fail so spectacularly? She’ll know it’s a sham.’

‘And the matchmaking will start?’ Harry picks up a blue cheese canapé from a passing, floating tray and decides to stuff his face and stop worrying about the weird games Malfoys play.

‘I’m talking about the gossip pages. It’ll only take a comment from Mother to the right ear and our charade will end up in the Evening Prophet. “Rumour has it all isn’t what it seems with a famous new couple.” Is that what you want? A week before the game against your ex? A week before the gala of the year?’

Harry stiffens and abandons the canapé. If this is exposed, he won’t be able to face Will ever again and, unfortunately, with the number of injuries he sustains in his work, avoiding him forever isn’t feasible. ‘What can we do?’

‘It’s time for drastic measures.’ Malfoy pulls Harry out of the living room and into a corridor of thick carpets, green potted plants and snoring portraits. ‘Here is fine.’ He drags Harry in a shadowy corner.

‘For what?’

‘We’ll pretend we were caught in a sexual act. The papers will be more interested in printing this kind of gossip instead of whatever my mother decides to tell them.’

‘And so we have to … fake…?’

Malfoy blushes. ‘Is that OK? It only has to appear real, I wouldn’t ask you to—’ Looking at his feet, he says, ‘Actually, it’s a silly idea—’

‘Someone’s coming,’ Harry interrupts him and pushes him against the wall. Malfoy’s deep blush spreads to his neck. ‘Never had you for a prude,’ Harry says, his voice low.

‘I’m not a prude,’ Malfoy murmurs. ‘Hm, that was Mrs Glendows, blind as a bat. Not much help—’

Harry doesn’t move back. ‘Well, someone else will come along now. I think I can hear footsteps.’

They stay still, but no one comes. Harry breathes against Malfoy’s jaw. The desire that coils in the pit of his stomach doesn’t surprise him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s aware he’s craved this for some time now. He knows he can’t kiss Malfoy, though. It’s the one thing he’s not allowed to do. Hesitant, not sure if he’s overstepping his mark, he lifts his hand and traces Malfoy’s lips with his thumb. Malfoy gasps, his chest rising and falling, his eyes wide. He parts his mouth just a little.

Harry would like to slip his finger inside Malfoy’s mouth, but he realizes how inappropriate it is. He steps back, but then someone is truly coming and Malfoy cranes his neck and confirms. ‘Mr Witherbore. Biggest gossip in town.’ He sounds breathless.

‘How do we do this?’

Malfoy’s voice is low and raspy and yet he still manages to sneer at Harry. ‘How do people do this, Potter? Need instructions?’ He unbuttons three buttons of his shirt and unzips his trousers. Holy moly mother of Merlin. Harry forces himself to stare at Malfoy’s eyes, and not the line of golden hair disappearing under the waistband of his Calvins.

‘Make some noise,’ Malfoy advises.

Harry moans, a little too loudly, and Malfoy snorts. ‘Not like that. More… natural.’ He smirks, a little affectionately.

Harry retorts, ‘You do it then, if you’re so good.’

Malfoy wraps an arm around his waist. Nuzzling Harry’s neck, he lets out a soft moan, which makes Harry’s hair stand on end. 

Malfoy moves his hips slowly, keeping them an inch away from Harry’s, and gasps in his ear, just like the time Harry overheard him in the club toilets. He runs a hand in Harry’s hair and moans again.

Fuck. Harry’s getting hard. He’s got a fucking boner and Malfoy will taunt him forever if he catches wind of it. The footsteps are coming closer and Harry leans in and smells Malfoy’s neck, his enticing scent emanating from the smooth skin. A kiss on Malfoy’s neck has Malfoy gasp — this time for real, Harry thinks — he’s starting to confuse what is real and what isn’t. Lust sweeps through him at the sight of Malfoy’s lean hips grinding slowly, not quite touching Harry, and he slips a hand under Malfoy’s shirt, tracing his back. Back caressing is allowed, he reminds himself. Malfoy’s skin is hot and Harry shivers. He leaves a trail of kisses on Malfoy’s neck.

‘Harry,’ Malfoy murmurs.

Their clothes rustle as Harry presses closer, chest to chest, but he tries to angle his hips away, desperately hoping Malfoy won’t feel his hard-on. The footsteps have faltered and he knows he needs to give a good show, but all he can do is restrain himself from humping Malfoy for real. His nails leave marks on Malfoy’s back in an effort to rein in his hunger for more.

Malfoy gives Harry a look that has his heart fluttering. How can he fake such lust? ‘Harry,’ he breathes again, his face an inch away.

Fuck it. Fuck all of it. Dizzy with desire, unable to stop himself, Harry presses his pelvis against Malfoy’s thigh and grinds, the feeling of bliss making his knees weak. 

His fingers bruise Malfoy’s arms, his mouth sucks at his neck. Malfoy’s panting now, and Harry’s thrilled to feel him hard as well.

 He wants to touch his cock, he’s desperate, but Malfoy hadn’t mentioned cocks in their agreement and Harry’s sure it’s out of the question, but he wants it, he wants it so badly. 

He bites Malfoy’s neck in frustration and Malfoy gasps, loud and excited, a grin on his face, which turns soft and yearning. He cups Harry’s chin, his eyes flicking on Harry’s mouth.

Another cough. Insistent this time. Harry becomes aware that a figure is on the edge of his sight, just a couple of feet away from the corner they’re in. Reality rushes in. Harry draws back. Malfoy buttons himself up, his hands shaking, hair falling on his forehead, looking thoroughly debauched. ‘Mother,’ his voice rings out. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

Harry surreptitiously adjusts his trousers to hide his erection. The fact that this was a performance hasn’t wilted it one bit. He’ll need to excuse himself for the nearest loo and take care of it.

‘Mr Witherbore saw fit to tell me that my only son has succumbed to his “animal urges” by the south staircase. Well. I must congratulate you, Draco. It was quite a show.’

‘It’s unfortunate that Mr Witherbore had to bear witness to my desire for my boyfriend. I do hope he won’t talk to any reporters. Now if you’ll excuse me.’

He disappears down the corridor, leaving Harry alone with Narcissa.

[deliasbabygirl-blog]

The History of the Elephants

Summary: Cordelia Goode is a single mother. Ally Mayfair-Richards is a single mother. There is a playground in the middle of town. The rest is confetti.

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Ally Mayfair-Richards

Word Count: 2,089

A/N: So, I don’t know when it happened, but this idea has been taunting me to write it for awhile. This piece is more of a tease to see if y’all actually enjoy the idea of Delia and Ally, if so, there will definitely be a second part. AU - takes place in New Orleans. The experience of AHS Cult did not happen. Ally and Ivy simply divorced. Thanks for reading!

Collecting spilled cheerios from the hardwood flooring, wiping away trickles of milk from tables, and cleansing soft cheeks of what appeared to be chocolate became her every day normal, raising a three-year-old had warranted a sort of routine for her. Though this daily routine had its own twists and turns, the unexpected potty mishap or the occasion bumping of noggins, she was content with motherhood and found being a mother as rewarding as she had ever dreamed, even if she was doing it fairly alone.

Even with several young witches roaming the corridors with the toddler, distracting her with nosey toys or candy, soothing her back until she surrendered to sleep, Cordelia Goode was still a single mother, the only mother and parent of three-year-old Emma. At first, the idea of being a single parent petrified her for her own mother neglected much presence in her childhood causing her worry if she would be able to nurture and love something without ever being taught how.

Through many nights, she perched herself on the edge of the bed staring at the light grey bassinet beside it, looking down upon the emptiness of it, imagining the small miracle screaming within it, screaming for her. She thought of how she would know what something without words could need from her, she worried herself until her dinners erupted from her in a porcelain bowl.

As her stomach rounded more and more each passing week, she awoke earlier in cold, sticky sweats from nightmares of screaming and blood and the inability to provide what her child would need. Those mornings, she would turn to the emptiness in the bed beside her, craving for the familiar touch of whom now was an enemy, her ex-husband. And her nightmares would pour into reality at the thought of truly being alone.

Three years later, watching her doe-eyed, bright young girl memorizing the alphabet beside her at the kitchen table, she seldom thought of those nights and those mornings. She had found comfort in her daughter, in realizing the motherly instinct within her and the recognizable differences in cries. She came to the realization that though the infant screamed and cried, her pleas were communication and she was to familiarize herself with each of them.

Emma was a simple baby, she recalled, handing her daughter another plastic letter from the bunch. The crying only truly came in the night when she was hungry or needed a change of diaper. Some expected fussing came with discomfort or accidental pain of tumbling over from sitting or bumping fingers when crawling. Cordelia knew herself lucky, for it was as though the small blonde being pitied her, as though Emma had felt the fear within her for nine months.

“You did so well,” she cooed over the toddler once the alphabet had been recited for the third time. “Mommy is so proud of you.” She relished in the wide smile, bright and innocent, from her daughter, grinning back at her while collecting her from the chair. “I was thinking we should go to the park today since it’s getting warmer out,” she suggested, using her free hand to brush the scattered letters into a neater pile.

The echoing of heels drew her attention toward the entryway to the kitchen, her eyes watching the approaching older woman carefully. “Good morning, mother,” she stated, the bite less harsh in her words these days.

Fiona Goode, the woman whom she once despised the presence of, became a crucial part of her daily life, someone who could understand her fears and offer her little advice of motherhood. The strength in relationship had faltered more than once, over the nine months Cordelia was pregnant. for she could only recall her own mothers’ negligence and narcissism.

Nights within the greenhouse, mind reeling over the anxieties of raising a child, she thought of the apologies her mother had offered her without gift. The raw, tear-filled apologies that she chose to ignore or chuckle at, calling her mother pathetic. She recalled her mother’s unwavering support the moment she discovered she was pregnant, her mother’s willingness to be there for her this time, and to be there for her child.

“Good morning, Cordelia,” the older woman spoke, kissing her upon the cheek while collecting Emma from her arms. “And good morning, angel. What have you and Mommy been up to?” The toddler pointed to the table mumbling on about letters and the “apha-bed”, and the blonde watched in gratitude her mother cooing over her daughter’s excitement, her mother showing beaming pride in the slight task.

Cordelia listened to the exchanging of misspoken words and her mother’s feigned wonder as she placed the dishes from breakfast into the sink, glancing out of the window upon the bright blue sky and glistening green grass. “I was thinking of taking Emma to the park today,” she smiled softly, her mind thinking of the swings and the little blue slide.

There was a slight snicker in her mother’s laugh, causing her smile to disappear, worry tingling in her stomach, or perhaps that was butterflies. “Are you planning on seeing that girl, again, Cordelia?” Without turning her attention from the expansive yard, she could hear the playful tone of her mother’s words, the knowing accusation ribboning each syllable.

“Her name is Ally, and well,” she began, turning around, leaning against the counter to face her mother and daughter whose interest resided on the caterpillar toy now in her hands. “Actually, yes. I spoke to her last night and we made arrangements to meet at the playground, and then, I think we are having lunch in town.”

She noticed her mother’s brow cock, the smirk toying of her lips. Perhaps she should have neglected to tell her mother about the woman she had met nearly two months ago at the park, the woman whom now pushed her daughter on the swings and caught her at the end of the little blue slide. She had not anticipated the teasing her mother would give her each time she mentioned the park, but she thought perhaps it was a mother’s way.

“Is she bringing her son?” her mother interrogated, making her feel like a young school girl misbehaving behind the stadium’s bleachers. Nodding with an eyeroll of feigned annoyance, Cordelia wandered toward the older woman, taking the toddler from her arms. “Of course,” she responded before sauntering toward the staircase, adjusting Emma’s bunched shirt against her.

Ignoring her mother’s insistence, she continued toward her bedroom with a smile. “Let’s get you dressed. Do you want to wear a dress or shorts?” Allowing the toddler to choose her own clothing was something Cordelia believed would enable an earlier sense of identity, and when Emma excitedly chose shorts, or “shworts”, she simply agreed telling her she would show her what shorts she had purchased her.

The sound of cartoons on the television traveled from the living room through the corridors to the kitchen where she stood, flipping the trio of pancakes upon the skillet. She inhaled the decadent aroma of her own floral perfume and the vanilla infused in the flattened breakfast cakes. It was a rather still, quiet morning, as they all had been for the past three months, a routine coming along nicely for her and her nine-year-old son.

His gentle chuckle from the other room twitched a soft smile onto her face, bringing her from the thoughts that she swore one day would drive her absolutely mad. The awareness of her son always brought comfort to her worrisome mind and saddened heart. This was never the life she had imagine for herself, Ally thought, but in this life, she would have to make do.

Throughout the three months, many hours beyond when she tucked her son into his superhero bed, a comic book residing beside him, she found herself tucked against the headboard of her own bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wondered if her own fears and anxieties would ruin the relationship she had with her son as they had with her wife. Never did she want to interfere with the emotional and physical bond she had with the young boy, he was her entire world.

Wrapped in the soft, comforting cotton of her sheets, she had laid awake several nights until the sun returned with a worrisome good morning, pondering over what she could have done differently to make her wife stay, how she could have coped with the gnawing fear within her mind, or at least hid it so her wife would have never seen. She had envisioned their life together for the remainder of her years. This she had never foreseen.

However, despite packing all of her and her son’s belongings and moving from the chill of Michigan to the heat of New Orleans, she had found some comfort in the new chapter of her life, one that didn’t have her ex-wife’s face around every corner of the streets. And she found inspiration in her son’s adaption to the new city, to his new school and friends. He inspired her to find everything there was to discover in their new home.

“Oz,” she called from the kitchen, placing his favored blue plate on the table beside his creepy clown cup, the one she seldom looked at other than the red rim when collecting it from the counter and pouring milk within it. “Breakfast is ready.”

She awaited the sound of his eager sneakers on the hardwood flooring, from the living room down the hallway, before returning to her coffee upon the counter. The blonde-haired boy scurried to the table like a malnourished bear, scarfing down the first few bites of his pancakes, and Ally nearly pounced to his side. “Hey, slow down, buddy,” she chuckled, lowering the fork from his mouth in order for him to chew what remained.

Shaking her head at her son’s unnecessary apology, Ally found herself sitting in the chair beside him, glancing over his newly purchased outfit that fit him perfectly. Her mind wandered to the week previous when she and her new interest, Cordelia, snuck off into town while Oz was in school. Cordelia had shown her the quaint store of children’s clothing where she herself purchased her daughter’s clothing, who cooed within the blonde’s arm at the mention of her name.

She thought of the woman wholeheartedly, analyzing every detail of her within her mind, her soft smile, the aroma of lavender in her hair, the mother she was toward her daughter, the woman she was toward Oz. Feeling the warmth rising from her chest, across her cheeks, she cleared her throat, her son staring back at her. “Are you okay?” he questioned, his mouth filled with food.

“Yes,” she reassured him, sipping on her coffee. “Do you want to go to the playground today? I told Miss Cordelia that we would meet her and Emma there, and then maybe we can go get some lunch afterward?”

She watched the contortion of her son’s face for a moment, worry spreading within her like wildfire for perhaps he was not as fond of the other woman as she had anticipated, or perhaps he wanted to spend his weekend day with only her. The heat within her chest returned, and she breathed slowly.

Before she could ask what was the matter, he cocked an eyebrow. “You’re the new mayor, right?” Taken aback by his seemingly random question, she simply nodded. “So, that means if I want to play with a certain toy in the sandbox, the other kids have to let me because you’re the boss of the whole town, right?”

She could not contain the chuckle pouring from her lungs, running gentle fingers through the innocent child’s hair. “No, Oz, you still have to share and wait your turn,” she explained, collecting the empty plate from the table along with the fork he dropped upon it. “Now go clean off your face and we will head to the park.”

The familiar pitter-patter of the young boy’s steps up the staircase told her he was listening, as he always had. Rinsing the syrup from the plastic dish, she thought of the reaction Cordelia had had to Oz’s sneakers when they lit up before her, such innocence and amazement in her eyes, and Ally wanted to blossom that reaction, that expression every time she saw the blonde. “Oz,” she called up the staircase. “You should bring your new action figure to show Miss Cordelia! I think she will love it!”

Tagged: @lana-b-bana​

[iamnotbrianmay]

The A Experience

Hey darlings! Chapter 18 is here and I’m excited for y’all to read it!

taglist goes as follows: @seven-seas-of-why, @twotitsjohndeacon, @dancindeaky, @gee-uloser, @mozzarellamazzello, @mozzie-s, @deracine-dogma-deux, @shutupanddontjudge, @warping-reality, @demianhill , @zodiacal-dust-and-curls, @hersked

The week came and went faster than Brian expected. One moment he was taking his usual astronomy classes, the next he was packing his embarrassingly old suitcase into the back of their van and getting ready to go to Truro with Roger. He had managed to learn eighteen of the twenty one names Roger had given him, and had managed to save up enough to buy Winifred Taylor bottle of decent enough wine.

He got into the van after a few seconds of hesitation, twiddling his thumbs as he waited for Roger to get in. The blond climbed with a flurry of movements, making the van tilt, and smiled at Brian. It was enough to light up his face, making him look three hundred times prettier. Brian couldn’t help it, he leaned over and kissed the tip of Roger’s nose, which made the blond blush.

“What was that for?”

Brian shrugged, “You looked cute.”

Roger blushed deeper, and turned the key on the ignition. Then slapped the wheel, “Damn it, Brian May. Don’t do that to me. I look like an idiot.”

Brian started laughing at Roger’s faux annoyance, even managing to make Roger blush deeper and whisper a small, ‘What the fuck is happening to me?’ to himself after blowing him a kiss.

“You know I used to be quite the Don Juan.”

“oh Yeah?”

Roger nodded, “I could literally get a different girl every single time I walked into a club.”

Brian let out a loud guffaw, “Okay I’ll humour you Romeo, what changed?”

There was a bump in the road that made Brian and Roger wince, but the older man couldn’t hold back the smile on his face when Roger sighed, “I met you.”

It was a good thing Roger was focused on the road because yeah, Brian could have melted in that exact moment.

☼

Despite Roger spending the entire trip to Truro telling Brian about his family, the guitarist was still taken by surprise at the… warm reception. The first person to come out and greet the boys was no other than Winnie, Roger’s mother. She was a beautiful woman, with large blue eyes and long, curly, blonde hair tied back with a bandana.

She had a toddler balanced on her hip, an adorable redhead, who was way too interested in pulling at one of her locks of hair to notice the screech of happiness that the blond woman let out when she saw the van pulling into the driveway.

“Roger darling!” she exclaimed, giving him a tight, one-armed hug.

“Hullo mum” he murmured into her hair, before pulling back and grinning at her.

She turned her smile on Brian “and you must be Brian! I’ve heard so much about you.”

He smiled back at her and bent down to be enfolded in the shorter woman’s hug. “Come in boys, you’ll catch your deaths!”

The small house was very warm and cozy and Brian tried to picture Roger growing up in it, scrambling down the stairs or sitting in front of the television. “I’ll just make a fresh pot of tea. Roger why don’t you bring the bags up to your room and then you can come tell me all the news!”

Roger nodded and pointed his head towards the stairs, “This way Bri, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Brian followed him up the staircase, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the low ceiling. Roger heard his grunt and looked back smirking “Sorry, old house is kinda small.”

Brian smiled back, “It’s lovely Rog.”

At the top of the stairs they walked a couple steps to a faded pink door. Roger turned the handle and Brian took in his childhood bedroom. Posters and old polaroids covered most of the walls, spare drum parts and notebooks littered a small desk. It was chaotic but organized and very much Roger’s space.

Brian grinned as he inspected some of the snapshots up close. “Oh my god Rog you were so cute!”

“What are you talking about were?” Roger squeaked indignantly. “Are you saying I’m not cute now!?”

Brian turned and smiled, before wrapping the smaller boy in a hug. “Of course not—now you’re just plain hot.”

At the compliment, Roger couldn’t help hugging him back. They stayed like that for a minute before Roger pulled back and looked up at him, “Okay nice save, you’re still on thin fucking ice.” He winked at Brian’s furrowed brow.

And with that, he skipped out of the room and down the stairs “Mum! Tea ready yet?”

Brian shook his head and followed after him, bracing himself for the ‘interrogation’ that surely awaited him downstairs.

Making sure to duck as he descended the staircase, Brian saw Roger bring a tray loaded with mugs, a saucer of milk and some plates into the living room. Feeling a little awkward, Brian stood by the doorway until Roger indicated where he should sit. He knew his father hated when someone sat in ‘his’ recliner and didn’t want to make any such mistakes in the Taylor household.

Roger noticed and waved his hand, “Just sit anywhere Bri!”

Brian shrugged and sat on the nearby loveseat, Roger landing heavily beside him.

“Napping has commenced!” Winnie announced as she entered the room with a teapot covered with a cozy.

She placed the teapot on the table with everything else and sat in the armchair across from them. “So how are you boys? How’s the band doing?”

They looked at each other, not sure who would speak first. Brian figured Roger should be the one to give his mum the good news. He nodded and Roger smiled “Better than you can imagine, mum. We are recording an album, we play weekly gigs and we even landed ourselves an interview with the Rolling Stone!.”

Both of them grinned as Winne jumped excitedly in her chair, “Oh that’s wonderful! I’m sure it’ll be fabulous!”

Roger nodded enthusiastically, then elbowed Brian “Bri’s fantastic on guitar...and he writes some of the songs too. I’m sure he can give you a little concert if you still have grandad’s guitar somewhere.”

Brian felt his face heat at the compliment. “And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you Mrs. Taylor that your son is a very talented drummer.”

“Oh please, call me Winnie. When I hear Mrs. Taylor I think of my mother in law.” Brian, touched by the easy familiarity, nodded.

“So Brian, obviously we’ve heard a lot about you from Roggie over here—but I don’t think he told me how exactly you met? It was one of those online app thingies, yeah?”

And just like that the comfortable feeling disappeared.

“Uh…” Brian started, before the front door banged open and interrupted him.

“Where’s my favourite idiot brother!?” Came a woman’s voice from the front hall.

“Clare!” Roger said happily, getting up and running into his sister for a hug. Brian sat and watched as the two embraced, noting that Clare also had the Taylor blonde hair and blue eyes. After a moment Roger pulled back and turned towards him, “Clare this is Brian.”

His voice was both nervous and proud. Clare turned her inquisitive eyes on him and Brian swore he could feel them inspecting him. He stood up to come meet her and her eyebrows rose as she now had to look up at him.

“Well” she said, putting her hands on her hips “he sure wasn’t lying when he said you were tall.”

Brian shrugged his shoulders and was about to hold out his hand when the smaller woman practically launched herself at him. Brian stumbled but after a moment returned the hug. Roger grinned and Brian smiled over Clare’s shoulder at him—so far so good! Then Clare turned her head slightly and whispered in his ear, “If you hurt my brother I’ll make you wish you were never born.”

Brian felt the smile freeze on his face as he let her down. She was just kidding...he hoped. Clare gave her mom a peck on the cheek then turned back to them.

“Rog! Come help me bring my stuff in and let mom interrogate Brian over here” she said jokingly.

Roger squeezed Brian’s hand, “I’ll be right back.”

“Try not to scream, okay? Anthony’s sleeping.”

Then he followed Clare out of the room. Brian, for his part, was feeling a bit like the rug had been pulled from under him. He looked over to find Winnie smiling sympathetically at him. She came over and pulled him to sit back on the loveseat, taking Rogers place beside her.

“Don’t worry dear, Clare’s just a little overprotective. Has been as long as I can remember.” Brian nodded in response, still unsure of what to say.

Winnie poured them both a cup of tea. “Milk and sugar?” She asked.

“Just milk please” he said faintly.

Winnie smiled again and handed him his mug. He took a sip of the hot tea and enjoyed the faint burn as he swallowed.

“I figure Clare will be doing a little interrogating of her own, we’ll have some time to ourselves. Now do you want to tell me how you two met?”

Not really, Brian thought, but when do I ever get what I want?

☼

Roger takes a peek into his nephew’s room, cooing softly at the sight of the redhead sleeping peacefully, before heading over to help Clare with her things.

“He is so pretty, Moon.”

“He is, isn’t he?” She agrees as she takes out a shirt and folds it into the nearly empty drawer, the only thing in there seem to be Anthony’s clothes, which Roger figures his mum put in when they got here. “I fall a bit more in love with him every day.”

Roger knew better than to ask why his sister’s husband wasn’t coming, he might be the youngest, and might have made some mistakes, but he sure as hell hadn’t gone and married an utter asshole. Clare turned to him then, and her twenty three years of age seemed like a whole lot more when she looked at him.

“I can hear you thinking, you know?”

Roger let out a huff of laughter, “Can you?”

“Yeah,” she gathered her hair and started making a bun, “I can hear the ‘Aiden is an asshole’ all the way from here.”

Roger’s heart skipped a beat at the declaration. He’d never heard his sister talk about her husband like that. Clare gave him a wry smile, eyes crinkling at the corner, “I know what you all think of him.”

There is a beat of silence.

“I might be starting to think that myself.”

Clare had married young to a then-charming Aiden. A handsome redhead who all of the family had loved the first two years of their marriage. Then it had all gone to shit, leaving Clare pregnant at twenty-one with a shit husband and an even shittier brother who brought her more harm than good.

Yeah, their family was a bit shit at the relationship department.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” she shrugged, “but there’s nothing I can do about it now except save you from making the same mistake. Make sure this guy is the right person for you, someone who’s not another Tim. Not another Aiden. Not another Michael.”

Michael Taylor is not a can of worms he wants to open tonight, so he settles for telling Clare everything while she unpacks. It feels therapeutic, to say the least, and she listen intently to everything he has to say. She stays quiet until he finishes speaking, then sits down beside him and combs through his long locks of hair.

“He’s waited eight months for you?”

“I know,” he answers, “I didn’t think anyone would ever do that for me.”

“Aren’t you ever going to kiss him?”

He gives her a small nod, “Someday. When I don’t feel dirty. When I don’t feel like throwing up at the concept. When I don’t feel like I would be damaging the most precious thing I have ever had in my life.”

“You know that last bit is bullshit, right?”

Roger frowns, “Is it?”

“I mean, you have every right to feel that way,” Clare corrects herself, “What I’m trying to say is that you wouldn’t be damaging Brian. You are not dirty, or broken, or cursed. You shouldn’t stop yourself from enjoying things just because of what you went through.”

He stays quiet for a while, letting Clare run her fingers through his hair and enjoying the quietness of the afternoon, the familiarity of his childhood home. Then he shrugs, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” She whispers, then presses a kiss to his forehead, “You don’t have to rush, take as much time as you need. But keep in mind that you aren’t damaged, you are not somehow less because of the things that have happened to you.”

They stayed like that for a while, silent and pondering about the things that have happened and that could happen. They are only pulled away from their thoughts when their mum calls for them, yelling about their cousins who have just arrived.

Clare gives her younger brother a kiss on the cheek as they finally stand up, and Roger realises that she never even finished unpacking.